Matters of the Heart
by K M Marie
Summary: IN-PROGRESS - In Hermione's seventh year, she is required to participate in an apprenticeship in a subject of her choosing. The results of her decision are nothing like she would have imagined.
1. Chapter 1

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.  
>Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling.<p>

Author's Note: There is no relation between the events of _Half-Blood Prince_ and _Deathly Hallows_ and what occurs here – the only risk of spoilers is information about Snape that Rowling provided in the final two books.

I would also like to note that I have deleted the original version of this story that was posted to . I edited the chapters, combining them and making corrections to minor grammatical errors, along with including additional story. Thank you for reading!

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
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**Chapter 1**

"Yes, seventh years – I expect to see each and every one of you present in the Great Hall, immediately following dinner. It is crucial to your final year curriculum that you make an appearance, as it regards your Ministry-mandated final project." A stern-looking woman stood at a podium before four long tables filled with students of various ages and size. She had a long, slender rod pointed at her neck, and it appeared to be amplifying her voice.

She nodded curtly to the old man beside her. His long white hair and beard traveled the length of his body, stopping barely above his hip. He copied her gesture as he moved his wand towards his throat. "Thank you, Professor McGonagall. Now, begin to feast! Let us not waste the marvelous food that the house-elves have graced upon us!" Nearly immediately, an array of food manifested on the tables.

"What do you suppose McGonagall is talking about?" said a red-haired, freckle-faced boy through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"_Ron_," said the girl next to him reproachfully. "Honestly, have none of your brothers ever mentioned the seventh year project?" She shook her head disapprovingly, her wild mane of brown hair shaking with it. "The seventh years are required by Ministry law to choose a subject in which they study more than the rest, declaring it a potential major in higher wizarding education following their final year. The professors will review the student's backgrounds in the subjects and determine whether or not the student is capable of majoring in the subject. Needless to say, whichever subject you choose becomes increasingly more challenging because the professor will instruct you more as an apprentice than as a student."

The boy next to her, with tousled black hair and round glasses, gaped at her. "So it's like… training? Pre-academy training?"

"Sort of," she replied, looking at her messy-haired friend. "You see, Harry, seeing as you want to be an Auror, I would recommend, and this is quite obvious, that you pursue defense against the dark arts. You claim it as your quote-unquote major, and Professor Huxley would – assuming he approves of your proposition, which I'd be shocked if he didn't – take you on almost as an apprentice and teach you the more difficult counterspells to common dark magic.

"Although, on second thought, you may be able to teach him a few things, as well," she reflected fondly.

Harry smiled, clearly flattered. "Hermione," he began. "What subject do you think you're going to look into?"

Her eyes flickered between Ron and Harry. "I was considering either ancient runes, arithmancy" – and at this, she shot a look at Ron who had rolled his eyes – "or potions."

"Potions?" both boys exclaimed incredulously.

"Potions, Hermione?" Ron continued. "Are you out of your bloody mind?"

Harry followed her gaze up to the High Table, where their professors sat, chewing their meals or conversing amongst themselves. Hermione's amber eyes landed on a sallow-skinned professor, whose black attire contrasted drastically with his pale complexion. He seemed very involved in sawing at a piece of meat with his knife. It was apparent he felt the students' gazes on him, because he glanced up in their direction, and scowled.

All three students looked away very quickly. "Good luck, Hermione," Ron groaned.

"Honestly, Ron, I don't think I'll need it," Hermione said, hopeful. "Professor Snape can be rather unpleasant, but I really think he'll actually almost _appreciate_ an eager mind in regards to potions."

"Maybe," Harry said, his face twisted into a look of doubt. "But it's probably not a bad idea that you've got back-up plans."

Following the end of dinner, the sixth year prefects showed the first years to their dormitories while the various years in between went on their way. The seventh years remained seated; an ocean of apprehensive faces staring up at Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore.

Again, wand at throat, McGonagall began to speak. "Now, as many of you are already aware, upon entering your seventh year at Hogwarts, you are required to declare a potential major for further education. What this entails: you shall approach the respective professor and request a potential apprenticeship with him, and after a background check on your past performances in his subject, the professor will consider you.

"If accepted, your subject of choice will become a primary focus of your lessons this year – however, you will _not_ neglect your other subjects." She added strictly. "But, as your chosen subject will become significantly more challenging, you will be expected to put forth more effort than in previous years. I must emphasize that this subject will become _significantly more challenging_.

"Which means you will be tested not only on your practical skills, but on your actual comprehension of the subject. You must understand why things work the way they work and why they won't work if used improperly. You must demonstrate that you are competent in your chosen field.

"A word of advice: choose a subject that sincerely interests you, a subject that you may want to pursue as a career. Students find they are more successful and happy with a subject they naturally excel at, or at least enjoy." She paused, surveying the room. "It is preferred that each of you decides within the following week, but the absolute deadline is not until the twenty-fifth of September. You may approach your professors with your proposition in the following weeks, but as I mentioned before, we _prefer_ that you come to us within the next week.

"Are there any questions?" McGonagall ended, once again surveying the room.

The room erupted into quiet whispers as students conversed between themselves. McGonagall interpreted that as a "no," and cleared her throat, her voice still amplified by the wand at her neck. "You are dismissed."

Suddenly, the Great Hall was filled with the screeches of bench legs against floor as students began to leave. Their conversations grew louder as the surroundings grew louder, creating an intolerable cacophony. Several of the professors stood to leave, while others remained to continue their conversations with their fellow instructors.

Hermione watched the potions professor as he made towards the exit of the hall. She snatched up her bag and began to hurry in the same direction, her friends in tow.

"Curfew isn't for another hour or so," she noted. "I think I'll catch up with Professor Snape tonight. Perhaps he'll be more interested if I confront him early."

Harry frowned as he fought to keep up with Hermione as she wheedled in between loitering students. "I doubt it, Hermione. He'll probably think you're just acting like the 'insufferable know-it-all' he thinks you are."

"Well," Hermione replied, undefeated. "There isn't any harm in trying, is there?" Snape escaped the crowd of students and was sweeping off in the direction of the dungeons, and Hermione made a jerky movement to follow him. "I'll catch up with you guys later!" And off she ran.

"She's bloody mad," Ron stared after her in disbelief. "Bloody mad."

* * *

><p>Hermione ducked in and out of the group of students, keeping tabs on the dark professor as best she could. Whether or not she actually lost track of him was unimportant, for she knew the location of his classroom and office by heart, having attended his lectures for six years. But still, she thought it best if she caught him before he made to his private quarters to turn in for the night.<p>

When she finally broke free of the throng of students, she darted around a corner and saw the Potions Master a long ways down the hall. How he managed to keep pace was lost on her; she had to nearly run to keep up with him.

"Professor!" she called out, gaining on him as she broke into a jog. "Professor Snape!" she repeated, as he made no motion to stop or acknowledge her.

He continued his brisk pace, but she managed to catch up, if not a little breathlessly. He still seemed to ignore her as if she were an annoying pest flittering about his head.

"Professor Snape?" she breathed, still nearly jogging to keep up with him.

His black eyes flickered to her, but he did not falter in his step. "What is it, Miss Granger?"

She couldn't believe he wasn't even a little breathless! "I would like… to make… a… proposition," she gasped as they turned a quick corner.

His voice dripped with malicious irritation. "Could it not have waited until tomorrow?"

"Well… I thought that… perhaps you would appreciate… a prompt…" she was tiring quickly, still all but running to keep pace with him.

Suddenly, he turned on her, his robes billowing around him, twisting in the air and slowly coming to settle. She nearly ran into him, having fallen shortly behind in attempts to breathe easier.

"Am I correct to assume that you would like to request an apprenticeship in potions, Miss Granger?" his voice was once again icy and dripping with annoyance.

She tried to gain her composure as she breathed heavily for air. The Head Girl did not want to face the truth that she was much more out-of-shape than she would like to admit, despite her small frame. She stared up into his penetrating gaze, nodding confidently. "Yes, Professor Snape. I would enjoy it very much if you took me on as an apprentice."

Passing students shot sympathetic looks towards Hermione, assuming much worse than why she was conversing with the despised professor. Snape was staring at her, and she thought for a moment that he might actually be considering her offer.

"How _charming_," he spat. "I shall give some consideration to your proposal, Granger." As he swept off, creeping down the long hallway in search of his office, Hermione's heart filled with hope. She couldn't help but to release the grin that was threatening to tear her face in two; Professor Snape, the Potions Master, was considering her as an apprentice!

She started a brisk pace back towards Gryffindor Tower, turning over many considerations in her mind. Professors Vector and Babbling would no doubt be very enthusiastic about her potential apprenticeship under them, and so she decidedly procrastinated proposing the offer to them until tomorrow.

As she drew towards the Fat Lady, she realized she hadn't thought to ask what the password was. She cursed herself for her irresponsibility, but was relieved when she noticed a classmate leaving the common room.

"Parvati, what's the password?" Hermione asked her politely.

After relaying the password to her friend, Parvati made off in another direction. Hermione repeated it to the portrait, which greeted her kindly and swung open to grant the Head Girl access. Of course, as Head Girl, she also had access to her own private living quarters, but here she would find her friends, and she was afraid that if she didn't relieve herself of her excitement for a potential potions apprenticeship, she might burst.

* * *

><p>After approaching the professors of ancient runes and arithmancy, Hermione caught up with her friends in the Great Hall, where they found themselves eating dinner. Desperately resisting the temptation to pester Snape about her proposal, she buried herself in the few homework assignments she had received that day.<p>

Until Ron's kid sister Ginny dragged Hermione to the Great Hall, she had been neglecting to notice how hungry she truly was. The Head Girl had taken the opportunity during lunchtime to confront Professors Babbling and Vector about a potential apprenticeship, and henceforth failed to feed herself.

Taking a seat beside Ron, Hermione began helping herself to spoonfuls of various vegetarian dishes. Her friends were savagely tearing apart various chicken parts while she quietly consumed her pesto pasta.

"Have either of you made any attempts to talk to Professor Huxley?" Hermione asked, trying her best not to sound nagging.

Harry returned the bone of what was previously a chicken wing to his plate as he shook his head. "Not quite yet. To be honest, I actually completely forgot. I was kind of caught up between homework and sorting out some new plays."

"Yeah, Hermione, you should see this awesome one he's worked out using the Beaters, it's bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed with a mouthful of stew.

Hermione grimaced as tiny pieces of food flung across the table, secretly thankful she had taken her seat next to him. "_Charming,_" she said. "Don't talk with your mouth full, Ron, honestly."

"Yeah, mum would have a fit if she saw you spitting your food everywhere," Ginny insisted.

Ron rolled his eyes at his sister but nonetheless, began to chew.

"So I guess it's safe to assume that you haven't talked to him either, Ron?" Hermione asked him after he had swallowed his troll-sized bite.

"Well," Ron began, and Hermione could practically see the wheels of poorly-thought-out excuses turning in his head. "I haven't had class with him yet so I haven't been able to talk to him."

Hermione shook her head disapprovingly. Picking at the food on her plate, she allowed her gaze to land on Professor Snape. He had been sipping from his goblet as she looked at him, seemingly trying to avoid conversing with the wild-haired teacher beside him. She was desperately trying to glance at his palm, it appeared, through her thick glasses.

"I really do hope he accepts me," Hermione said aloud. "I know he said he would consider me, but that really doesn't mean much of anything."

After the initial excitement of his consideration wore off, Hermione began to dwell on the fact that he said he would only _consider _her. Professors Vector and Babbling had been more than thrilled to hear she wanted to work with them, and yet Snape acted more like she was a nuisance to instruct.

_Although,_ she thought, _He never really acted as if he felt I was anything _but_ a nuisance at all, these past several years. Why should I even be surprised?_

"Hermione, really," Harry reasoned, twisting his fork in some spaghetti. "If he says no, it's really his loss, anyway. You're brilliant, and anyone who wouldn't want to work with you is a complete moron."

"But that's just _it_, Harry. Professor Snape isn't a moron. At all! He's possibly one of the most competent and capable teachers at Hogwarts. Don't you know, as a Potions Master, he has the equivalent to a doctorate's degree? If you don't know, that's the highest degree you can obtain through postgraduate education," she explained quickly, once again seeming to be talking to herself more than Harry.

"Wow, really?" Ron interrupted, his disinterest blatantly obvious in his bored tone.

Hermione glared at him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Snape leaving the Great Hall through the same door he escaped through the time Professor Quirrell had been shrieking about trolls. She stood up quite suddenly and climbed over the bench.

"I'm going to speak with Professor Snape about my apprenticeship. I'll see you guys later," she snagged up her backpack and hurried off.

* * *

><p>The Potions Master stalked through the hallways in the direction of his private quarters. His patience had been ebbed away by Sybill Trelawney's constant pestering during dinner. She had managed to catch a glimpse of his palm while he had been reaching for his goblet and throughout the entire meal, she had kept asking to see his hand, for she had apparently read his death in the near future.<p>

He already _knew_ that his death was imminent – he was a Goddamn turncoat, for Christ's sake! It was any day now that he would feel that despicable burn, summoning him to some forsaken meeting, to be confronted by the Dark Lord about his true loyalties. Lucius already suspected him; it was only time before Voldemort began to distrust Snape as well.

_The sooner, the better,_ Snape thought viciously, throwing open the door to his classroom. It banged against the wall loudly, rattling the shelves and the contents within them. _The sooner, the fucking better. _

He made his way towards his desk where his unopened mail lay. Some time ago, just as many of the other Hogwarts teachers had done, Snape made a request that the owls deliver his mail directly to his classroom, as to avoid the hallways being flocked with wandering owls in search of their breakfast-absent addressee. Taking a seat behind his desk, Snape quickly sorted through the day's mail: a journal, a catalog, the _Daily Prophet_, and a single envelope. Giving the envelope a once-over, he discarded it for later, and opened the alchemy journal.

Before he could read the first paragraph of the first article, a quiet knock sounded at the door. Cursing aloud, the Potions Master slammed the periodical down onto his desk, silently plotting the punishment for the annoyance behind the door.

"Come in," he growled, intentionally forcing his voice into an even more menacing snarl than normal.

Slowly, the door pushed open. Hermione Granger peeked her head into the room before her body entered. She seemed to notice Snape's annoyance, for she visibly second-guessed whatever intentions had brought her down here.

He could only assume: she wanted to know if he had approved of her apprenticeship or not. The honest truth was – and he would never let her know, of course – he would be pleased to have her work with him, if only she weren't so starved for approval. It wasn't unknown that she irked him half to death, what with her constantly raising her hand in attempts to disprove his theories or to simply challenge them with a game of twenty questions.

He, just as any of the other teachers, did not need to check Hermione's past scores in his class: he knew without fault they were the highest in quite some years. Her grades in potions alone challenged his own from decades past; but again, he would never admit that to her. She was a brilliant student despite how annoying she was; this he could not deny. However, he could procrastinate approving her apprenticeship, if only to deflate her ego.

"Professor," she began. "I was wondering if you put any more consideration into my proposition?"

Her posture alone screamed confidence, but her voice betrayed her, as it cracked on the tail-end of her question. She was so very visibly nervous. Snape considered this as he steepled his fingers in front of him, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, Miss Granger," he sneered. "I must say I am not at all surprised at your persistence; why, it has only been _an entire day_ since you first requested an apprenticeship. How dare I take a full twenty-four hours to consider such an arrangement?" The condescending tone of voice was not forced, but also not entirely serious – but again, she was not to know this.

"I didn't mean…" she began, the disappointment apparent in her face.

For a moment, Snape wondered if perhaps he should simply appeal to her request. She may be a nuisance to work with, but it would well be worth it if she decided to pursue a postgraduate degree in potions. There weren't many capable potion brewers aside from himself in the world; the next best alchemist that immediately came to mind was a muggle by the name of McKenna, and even he wasn't too terribly impressive. Granger would make an excellent Potions Mistress, no doubt, but should he make it so easy on her?

No, he shouldn't. "Miss Granger, I assure you that when I decide, you will be the very first person I inform," his tone was not consoling at all; it was as oily and snide as ever.

"Right, sir. I'm sorry to have bothered you," she murmured, quickly shuffling out of the room.

Snape stood, gathering the mail, and headed in the direction of his private rooms.


	2. Chapter 2

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.  
>Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling<p>

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie

**Chapter 2**

Nearly a week had passed since Hermione confronted Snape about his consideration. Aware that if she pestered him anymore about it that he was likely to deny her simply because she was a bother, she let it rest. He was entirely honest in what he said to her that evening: "Miss Granger, I assure you that when I decide, you will be the very first person I inform."

And so it surprised her when, one evening during supper, he requested to speak to her in his office following her meal. She had been pushing the food around on her plate, not particularly hungry that evening for one reason or another, barely listening to her friends talk Quidditch. Words passed through her consciousness in a haze, and putting them together, none of the sentences made sense.

Suddenly, a familiarly oily voice cleared its throat from behind her, and Hermione jumped nearly a foot from the bench, violently startled. She sent an accidental kick straight for Harry's shin, and he yelped, his scarred hand grabbing at the assaulted bone.

"Miss Granger, I would like to speak to you in my office."

Before turning to face Snape, Hermione sent an apologetic glance in Harry's direction. The Boy Who Lived sat clutching at his bruised leg, cursing quietly under his breath.

"Yes, of course, sir," she made a gesture to stand up, but he held a hand out in front of him.

"After dinner, foolish girl," he growled, turning away and sweeping down towards the entrance doors.

She slowly sat back down, her head cocked to one side in wonder. Then, as suddenly as she had committed the crime, she remembered that she nearly snapped Harry's shin in two.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry!" she gasped, reaching across the table in attempts to, in some way, help. "Let me see it."

Harry pulled his pant leg up to reveal a quickly darkening mark just to the left of his shinbone. Delicately, she reached out to touch it, the wiry black hairs that covered his flesh rubbing against her hand roughly. Quickly, she wielded her wand and cast a spell quietly, and the bruising began to fade.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry rubbed at his leg. "I'm surprised you didn't break my leg with that kick!"

"Yeah," Hermione smiled nervously. "My mum always wanted to get me into ballet when I was younger, but I convinced her to let me play football."

Ron looked shocked at this tidbit of information. "For some reason, that image just doesn't sit well in my head!" He laughed.

Hermione grinned sheepishly. "Yes, I can see how it wouldn't. But I was quite good at kicking that ball around!"

Glancing up at the High Table, she noted that many more of the teachers had left the Great Hall. "Oh, I should go speak with Professor Snape!" Standing quickly, she gathered her things and bid good night to her friends, and hurried in the direction of the dungeons.

Upon arrival, Hermione knocked quietly on the Potions Master's office door. His voice growled from within, and she slowly pushed the door open. He was seated behind his desk, leaning over a stack of parchment that she assumed were assignments. He didn't look at her until he had finished the paper he was on, and then he placed his quill in its inkwell and leaned back in his chair.

"Well, Miss Granger, I am sure you can assume why I have asked you down here," his voice was its usual low rumble.

Hermione remained standing in front of his desk, her book bag still slung from her shoulder. She wrung her hands in anticipation; for some reason, she thought she was here to be rejected.

"I have decided that you would be a very formidable, competent apprentice," he continued. Before she could express her excitement or gratitude, he continued. "I expect that, in addition to your usual classes, you shall report to the potions classroom every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, promptly following your final class of the day. If you fail to perform above what is expected of you in regular seventh year requirements, you shall be dismissed from the apprenticeship and you will have to find someone else to instruct you. There are no second chances with me, Miss Granger, and if you screw up once, you are through."

She nodded excitedly. "Yes, yes, sir, I understand completely! Anything less would be unacceptable and unchallenging!"

"Beginning this coming Monday, I expect to see you in my classroom no later than four o'clock. Punctuality is a necessity, Miss Granger. I will not waste my time with tardiness. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"We shall work continuously until the dinner bells sound. Once then, I will decide whether our current project requires our immediate attention or not, and if it does not, you will be dismissed. In some cases, I will require you back in my classroom immediately following dinner. This is not to be taken lightly, Miss Granger. You are in for a lot of work, much more than you are perhaps accustomed to. And if you fail to complete a single assignment I give you, there are no second chances. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"I shall see you Monday, at four o'clock," his dismissal was so sudden Hermione nearly missed it. Before she turned to leave, she contemplated thanking him for his graciousness – she even went so far as to give him a hug, despite how outrageous that concept was. She was just _that_ thrilled.

She turned to leave, pulling open the door slowly. Before she made to exit the room, she quietly said, "Thank you very much, Professor." The door shut silently behind her. She rushed to her rooms.

She threw open the door to her dormitory, her excitement almost too much to bear. The fuzzy pile of orange fur on her bed was on the receiving end of near-strangulation as she squeezed him in a happy hug.

"Oh, Crookshanks, I'm so happy!" she cried out, releasing the disgruntled cat. His yellow eyes stared up at her, insulted, through a squished face. She began to scratch his ears and he clawed his way into her lap as she made herself comfortable on her bed.

"I can't believe it. Professor Snape actually accepted my apprenticeship. Oh, Crookshanks, you have no idea what that means!" He stared up at her, and she was right: the look in his eyes said he couldn't care less. Suddenly, she pushed him off her lap and made for her private bathroom.

As Head Girl, her private dormitory was equipped with a private bathroom slightly smaller than the Prefects bathroom. With the same exquisite bath, it was Hermione's personal reprieve. With a flick of her wrist, the faucets began running and a number of oils mixed into the hot water, releasing a variety of relaxing scents into the air.

Stripping off her clothes, Hermione took a moment to consider herself in the mirror. Lately she had been neglecting her body, and it was apparent; she had lost a considerable amount of weight with the start of school, considering it was barely a week in the making. Her stomach was flat but the beginnings of her hipbones and ribcage were beginning to press through her flesh. Reaching around behind her, she unclasped her bra and it fell to the floor in front of her.

She stepped into the luxurious water, and sunk into oblivion.

* * *

><p>When Granger had left his office, she had whispered something barely audible, but Snape had heard it: "Thank you very much, Professor." Even in the soft tone of her voice was the sound of true appreciation, and for a brief moment, the corner of Snape's mouth twitched into what could be conceived as a half-smile.<p>

But, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. She had taken his avalanche of words with grace; she nodded enthusiastically and offered a "Yes, sir" when directly addressed. It was true that he had tried to intimidate her, frighten her a little with the coming onslaught of work that was a potions apprenticeship. But she had been prepared, it seemed, because she stood there, simply unfazed.

Professor Snape was perhaps one of the most difficult professors to pursue an apprenticeship with, and he made it intentionally so. There was absolutely no need to have a dunderhead such as Longbottom request such an arrangement. But even if, somewhere in the depths of his deranged logic, the idiot Gryffindor began to comprehend the concept, perhaps his trepidation in regards to the Potions Master would discourage him.

But Granger, she was a whole different type of student. She was plenty capable, as he had reminded himself every day since her proposal. She was a brilliant student and he knew it, and she would welcome any workload he could throw at her with complete grace.

He was not surprised that, as he attempted to intimidate her with the impending work, she stood before him, her face eager. She knew what she was capable of and what would present a challenge to her and that was precisely what she desired: a challenge.

Snape glanced at the parchments in front of him. Two-foot long essays on the uses of wolfsbane potion, assigned to his third year class. Not a single assignment was even remotely acceptable, and marking the forsaken papers left him in a terrible mood. He might enjoy teaching, if it weren't for the seemingly endless number of dunderheaded students that poured into Hogwarts every year. A competent potions student was a rarity these days, and it was a shame. Even though for a number of years Snape desired the defense against the dark arts position (and he still did), he still loved his subject. Potion brewing was an exact art and required patience, discipline – nothing like the foolish wand waving many of his colleagues took part in.

No, potions had a beauty about it, a beauty that he longed to share with another human being, if only they showed a quarter the interest he had.

* * *

><p>The dull and stormy skies did not dampen Hermione's spirits in the slightest as she entered the Great Hall, the ceiling bewitched to mimic the weather outside. A streak of lightning danced across the sky for a second, casting awkward shadows across the faces of the dining students, and the moment it was gone, they were again bathed in a warm light cast from the fires above.<p>

Harry and Ron were sitting across from each other as always, and Hermione plopped down next to the second youngest Weasley, grinning from ear to ear. It took the redheaded Quidditch Keeper a moment to register Hermione's good mood, and as soon as he did, Harry was the one that spoke:

"I take it Snape accepted your apprenticeship?"

Hermione had been picking at a piece of toast still smiling, and when addressed, she gushed. "Harry, he did! He even complimented me!" at her friends' skeptical looks, she added: "Well… kind of. He called me formidable and competent." She stared at her plate for a moment, and then looked up, all smiles again. "But he accepted me! I am so excited. There is so much work involved; I will probably not be around much for the next few months!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Leave it to Hermione Granger to be excited about a lot of work."

"Could you pretend you're happy for me, Ron?" Hermione said, grumpily.

"Sorry," he replied, reddening in the cheeks a little. "I am happy for you, Hermione. I'm just still a little… I don't know, it's weird having you work with Snape. After all, he's a git."

Hermione sighed, glancing to Harry for help. He had none to offer. "Sorry, Hermione, but Ron's quite right. He's a great teacher and he sticks his neck out for us, but he's still an arse."

Hermione glanced up to the High Table, but the Potions Master was absent. It went disregarded; it was more unusual when he was present. "Well," she began. "We'll be starting Monday. I have to be in his classroom by four, right after classes. He's set some very strict policies about it – if I'm late, if I fail to do something correctly, if my grades are low… he'll fail me out of the apprenticeship with no second chances."

Harry and Ron exchanged uncertain glances, which went unnoticed by their friend. Instead she was poking at her breakfast, turning over thought after thought in her mind.

* * *

><p>The following Monday approached quicker than Snape had expected; five minutes were left before the school bells chimed the arrival of four o'clock, and Hermione Granger had yet to make an appearance.<p>

Seated behind his desk, Snape flicked through a pile of parchment that had yet to be graded. It seemed like most of his existence was spent wasting his intelligence on sorry excuses for essays. The more he thought on it, the more he truly appreciated Granger's above-average intellect. Unless of course, she was an average intellect and her peers were just complete morons. Either was possible.

With two minutes of the hour remaining, a knock sounded from the door. Snape answered with a grunt, and Hermione Granger stepped into the room. He could sense the air of excitement around her, but she appeared slightly nervous. Unsure of herself, she took her seat at one of the tables nearest the teacher's desk, and sat quietly.

Observing her from his seat, Snape turned many things over in his mind. His eyes narrowed as she looked as though she was going to speak, but she silenced herself before he had the opportunity. It appeared as though she, too, was considering something. Again, a motion to say something – and again, silence.

Suddenly, with all intents and purposes to startle the eager pupil before him, Snape stood abruptly from his desk, slamming his hands onto the counter and pushing his chair back from him, all in one swift movement. Hermione reacted as he had wanted; she jumped, slightly frazzled, and then gestured to stand as well.

"Stay seated, Miss Granger." The first words of the afternoon. She obeyed him, staring intently, waiting to learn. "I presume that following our brief meeting Friday evening, you have considered our arrangement and decided to continue?" He paused, barely enough to allow her to nod, and continued. "Very well. This is not going to be at all easy, Granger. Nor is it going to be particularly entertaining… for me." He added sneeringly. "Our afternoon sessions will, most certainly, be more of a nuisance to me than anything, but even I cannot deny a brilliant mind, let alone one which desires a broader expanse of knowledge in my particular field. A wizard who appreciates potions is a rarity, these days – most of your peers would much prefer the ridiculous wand-waving of charms and transfiguration, or the _uselessness_" – he emphasized the word strongly – "of divination." (To this, Hermione scowled as well - she had dropped divination in her third year and never regretted it.) "Unlike those subjects, potions requires patience, discipline… a certain diligence that a subject such as ancient runes does not require. Potion brewing, in and of itself, shall ultimately benefit you more in the future than perhaps, say, arithmancy. While the spells taught both in charms and transfiguration will also prove useful, there is nothing that will be quite as valuable as knowledge in potions.

"In these lessons, I will teach you how to brew the more difficult concoctions – potions you would not learn in class. You will learn how to cure poison, mend wounds, restore life in nearly every terminal wizard… you will also perfect the craft of creating the simplest of draughts. When you are through here, I expect that you will have the aptitude to enter the world an extremely capable potions mistress.

"Only if you are able to handle it," the last sentence was nearly a challenge.

Hermione nodded vigorously. She didn't know what to say, and so she said nothing. Snape sneered, "So, what are you waiting for? There is an advanced potions textbook on the back shelf. Open to page one hundred and seventy-three, and begin there. Any questions, I will be at my desk, grading papers."

Eagerly, Hermione hurried to the back of the room. She spotted the thick book Snape had mentioned, and she snatched it off the shelf and carried it to a desk. Opening to the designated page, she stared at the instructions. It was a recipe for Polyjuice Potion.

_Surely, he's mocking me. _She thought, staring up at him. _He _knows _about our experience with it, he must. We stole so many ingredients from his stores our second year… he must know. I know he knows. _

Regardless of her suspicion, Hermione looked for jars that he may have set out for her. Sure enough, there was a desk close to his office that had several vials on it. She moved towards it, and set to work.

By the time the dinner bell had sounded, Snape had been hovering around Hermione, watching her progress. She brewed with confidence, despite the Potions Master's watchful eye. He said nothing, which she took as a positive thing; at least he found no faults in what she was doing.

"You may leave, Miss Granger," came his voice suddenly, and Hermione jumped slightly. "There is nothing left for you to do, for now."

Hermione nodded. "Do you want me to clean up?"

"That's unnecessary. You, of all students, should know that Polyjuice Potion has to simmer, what with your second year rendezvous." And there it was; he was referring to her experience with the Polyjuice, his voice as icy and mean as always.

She flushed and started to gather her things for lack of anything else to do in the awkward silence. When all her belongings were back in her book bag, she turned to Snape.

"I want to… thank you," she began, unsure. "For your acceptance. I'm truly grateful to have this opportunity to work with you."

Snape waved her graciousness off, and, not in the least disheartened by his gesture, she turned and closed the door behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.  
>Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling<p>

**Author's Note**: This chapter contains an explicit rape scene. If you believe you the content of this chapter will be triggering for you, skip to the break that is indicated about halfway through.

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 3**

A month had passed since Hermione's first afternoon as Professor Snape's apprentice, and she had settled into a rather comfortable routine. The Potions Master would quiz her daily on potions they had never covered, and the Head Girl continued to impress him with her already expansive knowledge on alchemy.

Finally, after about a fortnight of working together, Snape allowed Hermione access to his personal stores and laboratory. There, she was able to browse freely his (what seemed to be) endless supplies; the large room was bordered with tall wooden cases, a stepladder present so the higher shelves could be accessed easily. The surfaces were blanketed with jars and vials of varying colors and sizes; most of what they contained Hermione could identify nearly immediately. But there were quite a number of specimens she could not. Snape had also given Hermione permission to access his private lab, though she still had to speak with him whenever she wanted to gain entrance, for he and only he knew the passwords to lower the wards.

There, he had designated an area where she could set up her work and leave it until the following day. Hermione had taken to using his laboratory and his services every day, instead of the intended Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. She often worked straight through dinner, so enthralled in what she was doing that time was entirely lost on her.

Tonight was a Saturday night, and she had asked permission from the Potions Master to use his laboratory yet again; she had began working on a potion that needed her immediate attention, and he obliged, albeit slightly grudgingly. He unlocked the storeroom and his laboratory for her, though he left her to her work and sat out in his classroom, yet again grading essays.

For the particular potion Hermione was brewing, she needed black beetle eyes. Crossing the classroom towards the storeroom, she pushed open the door and began to search the shelves.

After five minutes of searching and finding nothing, she left the storeroom and approached Snape. "Sir, I can't find the black beetle eyes."

Snape looked up at her suddenly, as if startled. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, standing from his desk and heading in the direction of the stores. Hermione followed suit, standing at the doorway while he quickly ascended the stepladder, plucked a vial off the shelf and then climbed down.

"You didn't look very hard," he growled, handing her the jar, his fingers brushing hers for an instant before he pushed past her and back to his desk.

Hermione bristled, slightly annoyed by his actions. Stifling her irritation, she shot a glare at his greasy black head, and headed back to the lab.

Scooping out the desired amount of eyes, Hermione read the instructions carefully. Checking and rechecking her measurement, she decided it was correct and held it over the simmering cauldron.

"You have not waited long enough, Granger."

Hermione jumped nearly her height, the spoon and the eyes splashing into the orange concoction below. She let out a yelp, and then cursed as the potion she had been working so hard on began to bubble and smoke, changing from orange to a murky brown color.

"Damn it!" she snapped, turning on Snape quickly. "You startled me, and now it's ruined!"

The tall man towered over her, but in her anger she was not intimidated. She almost forgot who he was, what authority he held over her. "Thank you, Professor! Thank you! Because you insist on creeping around like some sort of… I don't know, thing! It's ruined!" her anger forced coherent thought from her mind.

Huge bubbles began to lift off the surface of the ruined potion, murky and brown floating to the ceiling. When they popped, they sent a slosh of scalding liquid plummeting below them. Both Hermione and Snape were splattered several times.

"Damn it!" Hermione cursed again. She turned around, whipping out her wand and distinguishing the flames below the cauldron. "That was nearly a week's worth of work!"

Since the moment he had startled her, Snape had not spoken. He was taken aback by her reaction; in all the time that he had taught her, she had never quite burst out like she had just then. He knew she had reason to be angry; she had been locked up in the lab for the past four days, brewing the draught. Needless to say, Snape felt slightly… bad.

She stood there, sputtering and cursing about the potion and the work and Snape and everything in general. Her eyes held such a fierce anger, an anger he had not seen in anyone but himself. He knew exactly what she felt; there were many a time when an ignoramus would come by and ruin that which he had invested so much time and effort.

Her back was turned to him, and she was shooting sparks out of her wand at the bubbles of potion that lofted above their heads. They popped without splattering anymore burning liquid on them; she had several red marks on her arms from the droplets.

Suddenly, he was wrenched with the urge to reach out and touch her hair. The wild mass had been tied back at the nape of her neck with a red and gold ribbon – so very _Gryffindor_. Tied back in that manner, she had managed to bewitch it with a taming spell of some sort, so that it hung down her back in smooth, shiny waves.

She turned on him, and seemingly without control, he reached out and brought her into his arms. He forced his lips upon hers, and she struggled against him. Sounds were coming from deep in her throat but no audible words were emitted; she forcibly began pushing against his chest with her arms. He was too strong for her, and he leaned her back on the counter behind her.

There was a burst of pain from his groin as Hermione's knee made impact. Doubling back, Snape grabbed at his wounded member, and Hermione stared at him appalled. She turned to run, but he grabbed her, forcing all pain from his mind as he had done so often in the past, and she fell to the floor.

With a quickly uttered word, the door to the classroom slammed and locked. The sound was distant and reverberated through the rooms; the jars on the desk Hermione had been working at shuddered and clinked against each other. There was another faraway sound – a girl crying. And yet it wasn't far away, because the girl was below him.

"No, no, please!" Hermione begged. Snape was on top of her, kissing her again. She tried to push him off, but he was too heavy. Struggling beneath him, tears began pouring down her cheeks. "Please, please, don't!"

Her mind whirled. Unable to understand anything at all, she kept fighting him, even though she knew he was far too strong. He began tearing at her clothing, the buttons on her blouse popping off as he ripped it open. She flushed violently as he exposed her white lace bra. The look in his eyes revolted her: pure lust.

She cried out as he ripped her bra open and exposed her breasts; instantly, her nipples hardened in the cold of the room, and he grabbed at them violently. He bent down and kissed her neck, biting and pulling and bruising, and all she could do was cry.

She gasped; he had taken one hard pink nub in his mouth and was sucking at it. The other was being tweaked with his fingers, and instantly she felt a stirring in her lower stomach. Her tears ceased as she let out a soft moan; Snape moved his mouth to her other breast.

As soon as he was there, he was gone. Kissing a trail down her stomach, he ripped open her skirt, revealing a pair of white lacy panties to match the bra he ruined. They were wrenched off as well, reminding Hermione of what was happening. All sense of the previous pleasure fled her mind and she screamed, tears flowing yet again down her rosy flushed cheeks.

His eyes landed on the triangle of soft curls between her legs. Slowly, his hands slid their way up her thighs, and he entered a single finger into her hot core. Hermione, between her sobs, let out soft moans; he _wanted_ to pleasure her, he didn't want to hurt her. Not in the slightest.

Suddenly, Hermione felt warmth between her legs and realized Snape had his mouth on her most private regions. Another moan escaped her as he sucked and licked at her. Digging her fingers into the grout of the stone tiled floor, she let her legs fall open for him.

And again, the realization came. This was Professor Snape. This was Professor Snape _raping _her. His guard was down; she sent a kick aimed for his head, but she hit his shoulder instead. Good enough; it sent him tumbling backwards, shocked.

Struggling to her feet, Hermione grabbed at her clothing and tried to cover herself as she ran for the door. Snape caught her and pinned her to a desk, binding her arms and legs into a spread-eagled position. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as he shrugged off his robes. He climbed above her and kissed her violently, deeply, all the while pulling off the rest of his clothing.

He stopped momentarily, and stared at his victim. They were in such a close proximity that he could feel her frantic, terrified breath on his face. Her eyes were wide with fear, tears pouring out of them and down her flushed face.

The logic in his mind fought desperately to resurface, to gain control, but his most primal instincts had hold on his brain and he forced down any reasoning. He lowered himself to her, planting a trail of kisses and bruises down her already harshly bruised stomach. She was swollen and sensitive, and he took her into his mouth. Her cries ceased, and she let out another moan.

It stirred something so deep inside of him that he dipped his tongue deep into her, and she screamed, but this time, it was different. She screamed in intense pleasure, her thighs quivering as she tried to clench them closed, but the spell held her in place. He crawled up the length of her; his swollen, hard member positioned at her entrance.

He stared her deep in the eyes and there was just a hint of lust in their amber depths. But the majority was fear. He had seen those eyes so many times before, on so many nights when the Dark Lord would send his minions on their way, terrorizing towns and killing the men and raping the women; he had returned to the most evil parts of him, the parts he had tried to keep hidden since the night that Lily was murdered.

And here he was, once again, raping a young woman. With a sudden thrust, he broke through Hermione's girlhood and she screamed out in pain. He paused momentarily until the shriek ceased, and stared in her eyes as he began to thrust.

Tears rolled down her cheeks and yet she groaned, her face burning red with passion and pain. He finished after what seemed like eternity, releasing his seed inside of her, and pulled out. The binding spell was released as he did so.

It took Hermione a moment to realize that she was free. When she did, she curled up, pulling her clothes around her. She stared at Snape, who, though he pulled on his underwear, seemed to come to his senses as he stared in horror at the young woman in front of him. She was bruised, bleeding, swollen and red all over. Her clothes were torn and her face was streaked with tears.

And suddenly, she ripped her robe off the back of a chair. Wrapping herself in it, she wrenched open the door and bolted away.

Standing alone in the dungeons, Snape stared at the open door. Around him, desks were overturned, chairs had fallen, vials shattered on the stone floor; all had been ignored during his molestation of a student. Blood stained the desk in front of him from when he claimed Hermione's innocence.

He pulled a hand through his tangled hair, and then cradled his head in his palms. "Dear God… what have I done?"

–**Trigger Free**** Content–**

When Hermione reached the safe confines of her room, she finally allowed her tears to fall full-fledged. Her entire body wracked with pain, and even as she sat on the floor, a crumpled pile of defeat, she could recognize the beginning shadows of bruises on her fair flesh.

The sight of the purple marks brought the events from the evening full-force back into her thoughts. Snape kissing her; Snape touching her; Snape _raping_ her. He had stolen her innocence from her; he had… raped her. She was possessed by an intense sob, her shoulders shaking as her head hung in shame.

Crookshanks leapt gracefully from her bed and came to her side, purring loudly and stroking his head against her elbow. She lifted her shaking hand and scratched his ears, smiling ever so slightly as he climbed into her tender lap.

Tears still slid down her flushed cheeks as her breathing came to even itself out. Her body began to calm and the shaking ceased. Even if he _had_ raped her – which he had, and she could not begin to deny it – he had also made her feel good. In ways she had never felt before, not with Viktor, nor with Ron, nor with any boy she had ever been with.

But he raped her. There was no way around the inevitable truth – she had been molested by Professor Snape and as Head Girl, she had a responsibility to report the event. She had a responsibility to protect the other students from a potential threat, even if this was the first and last time Snape would ever let his control slip away.

She began to cry again as the pain in her body registered itself in her mind. She could barely move her legs, the pain in her lower belly being almost too much to bear. The fleeting thought of possible conception passed through her mind, as well, and she made a mental note to report to the hospital wing first thing tomorrow morning. That is, if she could walk.

She eased herself into her bathroom and ran a bath. Slowly, as she peeled her torn clothes away from her body, she caught sight of the damage he had caused. Her neck was covered with purplish bruises; her lips were red and swollen from his kisses. Her entire stomach was covered with similar dark marks. Her nipples were darkened with bruising. Thighs that were stained with blood, and all over, red irritation from where his nails had caught her during his ravaging.

The sight caused her to cry. Any second thoughts she was having about forgiving Snape had been forced away. The unbearable sight of her broken body was enough to convince anyone that he had hurt her, and he needed to be punished.

She lowered herself into the bath, scrubbing her skin raw of the soil that was Severus Snape.

–

Staring around the classroom, Snape tried to grasp what he had just done. It all seemed too unreal; for a moment he had returned to his primal ways, the ways of the Death Eaters. He had raped a student, and surely Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall would be bursting through the door, wands out, demanding answers.

And yet, as he waited, no one arrived. It had been nearly an hour since Granger had fled the scene. He had not moved from the spot. He had, however, lowered himself to the ground, trying desperately to make sense of what had occurred.

If there was one thing that he had always prided himself for, it was his control. In any given situation, Severus Snape was a man of discipline. He had never let his emotions run rampant or let his mind jump to illogical conclusions.

And yet, in a matter of five minutes, everything he had ever known had been taken violently from him, as he had violently taken Hermione Granger's virginity.

He stared, disgusted, at the bloody desk. That was the single piece of evidence he needed that proved he had stolen Hermione's innocence; she bled as he forced his way into her. He had been the attacker of many women before (something he was very ashamed of, and something he desperately tried to forget), and none of them had bled from his violence, no matter how vicious. _Hermione bled._

His conscience nagged at him; he needed to report the event to Dumbledore. He could not wait for Hermione to do so; that was pure cowardice, and near denial that what he had done was wrong. No, he realized he had wronged Hermione in the severest of ways possible, and he must be punished.

But he could not seem to drag himself from his defeated position on the floor. His ebony eyes scanned the room; shreds of her clothing were scattered everywhere. His own articles were a few inches from him, he having discarded them shortly before his complete violation of the student on the desk in front of him. Shattered glass lay scattered around the path he had made from the laboratory to the very spot he sat. Desks and chairs were overturned.

In the corner, Hermione Granger's belongings – her bag, her books – remained. In her rush, she had left them in his classroom.

The room he had dwelled in for so many years looked nothing like the classroom he remembered. And he couldn't bear to remain in it any longer. Pulling on his robes, he strode to his office and through a door, into a hallway that lead to his private quarters. He had to make sense of what had just occurred; he couldn't believe those actions were his, and yet, he knew that he had committed the crime.

–

Several days passed and Hermione did her best to keep her friends oblivious to what had happened. She had visited Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing, requesting a contraception potion. Of course, the mediwitch was required to interrogate Hermione thoroughly before presenting her with the liquid, but Hermione had been able to avoid the question of whom she was copulating with.

With the looming thought of pregnancy now comfortably off her shoulders, Hermione was able to consider other things. Should she report Snape? Her arguments for both options were fierce: she very well should, because he poses as a threat to the entire female student body; or she very well shouldn't, because Dumbledore would be required to fire Snape, and then the Order would lose a very valuable member. She reasoned that without the protection of Hogwarts and Dumbledore, Snape would be vulnerable to any Death Eater attacks and Voldemort himself, and while he could still spy for the Order, losing the safety of Hogwarts was a very low blow that endangered his life. However, he violated a student and was a danger to the entire student body. But he could die if he was fired from Hogwarts. But he was a danger to the female student body. But…

And the argument raged on. The more she considered it, the more Hermione was leaning towards keeping it a secret from everyone. This included her two best friends, Harry and Ron. Snape was far too valuable to both Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix, because without him, they would no longer be informed of the going-ons of the Dark Lord. Doing so, she could potentially be harming Harry; if they weren't one step ahead of Voldemort, he wouldn't have the advantage over his nemesis and therefore Harry would be vulnerable.

Regardless, she was incredibly thankful that the castle had been cold the past few days. She had been able to wear turtlenecks and jeans under her school robes to conceal the bruises he had left, and so no one suspected a thing. When the time for potions class arrived, she feigned illness and retreated to her room. Snape did not punish her, but her classmates did not know this. From the story that Harry and Ron had relayed to her later during dinner, he had interrogated them, threatened a detention for her, and subtracted house points.

"The greasy git, he took fifty points away from _us_, for our 'cheek,'" Ron was fuming later.

Hermione knew that she could not continue forever avoiding the Potions Master. Soon enough, her attendance would be required in his classroom if she wanted to avoid the other students growing suspicious of her actions (though under what pretenses they would suspect her, she was not sure – no chances were to be taken, however, to spare the professor).

Hermione had been curled up in a cozy armchair next to the hearth in her rooms with a book in her lap. She had been on the same page for the past hour, her mind mulling over several other things. Suddenly, she decided that it was time for action. She needed to confront Snape; they could not go on avoiding each other. He must be on pins and needles waiting for the day he lost his job, and while Hermione did not pity him for his apprehension, she did feel the need to relieve him of it. It was simply the right thing to do.

Standing from her chair, Hermione stretched, her blouse lifting with the motion and revealing her healing stomach. The bruises that nearly covered her body were almost completely faded now; a few greenish marks remained, but they went unnoticed for the most part.

Pulling on her school robes, Hermione headed for the dungeons. The closer they came, the faster her heart beat in her chest. _I'm bloody mad,_ she thought. _He should be the one doing… this. Not me. I'm the victim._

His classroom door was shut, but she didn't bother knocking. Afternoon classes had ended an hour ago and unless he was overseeing an early detention, it was unlikely there would be any students within. Pushing open the door, she peeked her head into the room. The room was empty, and there were no signs that anything horrible had ever happened there.

Closing the door softly behind her, Hermione took notice that his office door was slightly ajar. She approached it nervously. She put her hand against the cold surface, and the door slowly swung open.

Snape had been sitting at his desk, bent over some parchment. An envelope lay torn open next to his hand, and he appeared to be reading whatever its contents were. He did not notice her come in.

Quickly, Hermione scanned the room. The things she had left behind had been moved to a corner, next to an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair. Other than that, it remained as she remembered; several jars filled with bizarre specimen lining the shelves that bordered the room, and through the window she could see the Quidditch pitch, slowly fading in the setting sun.

With lack of any other way to obtain his attention, Hermione quietly cleared her throat, while she pushed the door closed with the heel of her foot. She was very nervous, locking herself in the room with the very man who had violated her days previous, but she could not risk them being overheard.

Snape's head shot up immediately, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. When he realized whom the intruder was, his entire face softened uncharacteristically, and he stood.


	4. Chapter 4

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.  
>Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling<p>

Author's Note: I wanted to thank everyone for their reviews! I enjoy reading them very much, and they inspire me to continue writing. Thank you so much for all of your comments and I hope you continue enjoying the story!

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie

**Chapter 4**

Hermione's amber eyes met Snape's steadily. Neither party knew what to say, and for a moment, they both stood still, staring at each other in silence. Snape's face was set in an expression that was entirely foreign to Hermione, and she almost didn't recognize him.

Finally, and without invitation, Hermione sat down in the uncomfortable chair in the corner of the room, her belongings within reach. She folded her legs next to her, and finally broke the gaze she held with Snape. Her eyes moved to the window, where she could barely make out the Quidditch goal hoops in the distance.

The irony that Hermione felt almost comfortable in the potions office was not lost on her.

She heard the whisper of fabric that suggested Snape had returned to his seat. A few more minutes passed in silence, and then Hermione looked at the man who had raped her. She felt the sting of tears at the backs of her eyes, but she forced them away.

She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice caught in her throat. Snape simply looked at her, the lines in his aging face more apparent than she had ever remembered. In his eyes, she recognized something she thought might be sympathy. She did not overlook how tense his shoulders were, and she suspected the only reason his elbows were supporting his weight was to prevent him from shaking.

"Pr-professor," she began, feeling pathetic.

Snape did not reply; he only stared at her. Absently she began picking at the soles of her shoes as she averted her eyes from Snape's face.

"I didn't…" her voice was soft. "I didn't report you."

Snape bristled at this news, adjusted his body slightly to face her a little more, but still he did not respond. She continued:

"I spent the last few days torturing myself, trying to do the right thing. Part of me wanted so badly to tell somebody, anybody. But I didn't. I couldn't." The tears forced their way onto her face. "I couldn't do that to you. T-to… to Harry." She brushed at them roughly with the sleeve of her robes. "You are too valuable to our cause, and if I had told Dumbledore, he would have been forced to fire you. And without his protection… and the protection of Hogwarts… you could be subjected to Death Eater attacks. You could be… killed."

She still couldn't bring herself to look at him. But she continued: "And if I told, I would be putting Harry at unnecessary risk because without you, we would be in the dark as to what Voldemort could be doing, and that would make Harry vulnerable. And I couldn't do that to him, I love him too much." She rubbed at her eyes with her trembling hands. "And yet, you stand as a danger to the students here. As Head Girl, it's my responsibility to protect the students and report any potential threats. But as Harry's friend, it's my responsibility to protect him, and the entire world, from Voldemort."

Snape simply stared at her, at a loss for words. The very woman he had raped not even a week ago sat within five feet of him, confessing that she could not bring herself to report his crime. She had every right in the world to tell Dumbledore, to have his ass tossed unceremoniously out onto the streets of Hogsmeade. And yet, because she realized his value to the cause, she did not. Because she realized that her friend's life practically rested in his hands, she did not. He could not believe the words she was speaking.

"Can…" she began, slowly. She raised her face to look at him, and her eyes were red and swollen from crying. "Can I ask you a question?"

Snape nodded. "Of course, Miss Granger."

"Does it always hurt?"

Snape could have laughed at the innocence of her question. She was not asking why he had raped her, why he had lost his self-control and stolen her innocence, why _her_. She was asking if every time she engaged in the act of love-making, if it would hurt!

"No, Miss Granger," he answered softly, staring her in the eyes. "It only hurt because… because it was your first time." His voice nearly cracked, but he maintained his composure. "And because I was so rough."

"Oh," she replied simply, quietly. She let her eyes fall back to the soles of her shoes, which she commenced picking. "Can I ask you another question?"

"Anything, Miss Granger," if it had been any other student, he would begin to grow annoyed. But not her, not now.

"Do you think I should have reported you?"

Her question was simple enough. Unfortunately, the answer was not. Dropping his gaze to his calloused hands, Snape began. "Yes, I do. The other night was a heinous, despicable crime against you, Miss Granger. You did nothing to deserve it, and I do not want you to believe otherwise. What had happened was the result of my own lack of self-control. It had nothing to do with anything that you had done, and I want you to know that," his voice was stern as he addressed her. So badly he wanted to reach out and grab her hands in an assuring manner, but to do so would be terribly inappropriate. "Miss Granger, I do not regret anything more in my life than what I did to you. It was terrible, and you have every right to report me. And while I am entirely grateful that you have not, I will never prevent you from doing so."

She simply nodded, chewing her lip as she looked at him. In the matter of fifteen minutes, she had been reduced to a seven-year-old girl, desperate for answers to questions that had none. She was terribly confused. Although she should, she did not hate the man who sat so remorsefully before her. In all honesty, she had no idea how she felt about him.

"I went to Madame Pomfrey the day after," she began slowly, looking at nothing, still chewing her lip. "I asked her for a contraception potion, and she asked me a lot of questions about why I needed it. She informed me how disappointed she was in my lack of responsibility, especially as Head Girl. And she reminded me of it several times before I was able to leave. But… I didn't tell her it was you."

The Potions Master stared sadly at her. She was being blamed for _his_ actions, and he hated it entirely. The longer they sat together in his office, the more he hated himself. She was so small, so innocent, so… scared.

Hermione raised her eyes to meet his again, and they were red, but no longer wet. She tried a slight smile, but it only resulted in an awkward face-twitch. Even if Snape wanted to smile at her, he couldn't. The atmosphere of the room was just too heavy.

"Do you think it would be all right if I continued my apprenticeship?"

If Snape could gawk, he would have. But his facial features were simply not suited for such an expression. Regardless, he replied, if not a little confused, "Of course, Miss Granger. That decision is entirely up to you whether or not you desire to continue with it. I would not have forced you either way."

"Okay, thank you," she whispered.

She began picking nervously at her nails as the silence between them wore on, but Snape interrupted it. "While I do not wish to force upon you any circumstances that may be uncomfortable, I do request your attendance as I did before: every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at four o'clock. I do not expect you to be present any more than that, and if it can be helped, I will not require you to remain past dinner."

She nodded slightly. "Of course, thank you."

The silence that weighed on the room was not uncomfortable. Oddly enough, the both of them seemed a little at ease with one another. Hermione shifted in the chair; Snape turned back to his desk and folded the parchment back into the envelope.

For the rest of the evening, they sat in a comfortable silence while Snape graded second year essays. Hermione, who had moved her chair next to his desk, offered to assist him in the evaluations, and he obliged. She dipped her quill in red ink and corrected along with him.

The hours ticked by until it was nearing midnight. Hermione rubbed at her tired eyes and Snape suggested she go to her rooms.

"Thank you, professor, for… talking with me," she said quietly as she picked up her things.

"Of course, Miss Granger," came his tired reply. "I shall see you Monday."

* * *

><p>The following Monday proved to be much less comfortable than their previous discussion. Hermione arrived right on time, waiting for the professor's invitation before letting herself into his classroom. Upon entering the dungeons, she had a sudden flashback to the events that had taken place, and nearly fled.<p>

However, she took a few deep breaths, and managed to calm herself. Snape had answered her knock from his office, and so he did not witness the spectacle of a near panic attack on Hermione's behalf, and she was grateful. While the man had every reason to feel guilty, she didn't want to inflict more shame on him (which, it occurred to her, seemed a little strange).

Setting her bag down beside the door, Hermione headed in the direction of the laboratory. She tested the door and realized it was unlocked; Snape must have already lowered the wards. She entered slowly, and her workstation remained as it had been, except it had been restored to its previous tidiness.

Setting her potions book on the desk, she flicked it open to the last page she had read. The same draught she had been working on; she intended to recreate it, and properly this time. Snape respected that she needed to be distant from him for the time being, and she hoped he would only speak to her if she initiated conversation.

And so, she began to work. All the ingredients she needed had been conveniently laid out for her, as if he anticipated her desire to recreate the potion he ruined. He didn't bother her at all during the afternoon, and only once the dinner bells sounded and Hermione opted to remain in the dungeon to continue her work, did he let himself into the room, leaving the door wide open as to not panic Hermione.

"So you will be missing dinner, then?" he said simply as he watched her from the doorway.

"Yes, I think so," she replied, looking up briefly from the pages. "I'm not very hungry, and this draught requires my attention, so…"

"Do you have any questions?"

"No, professor."

"Good evening, then, Miss Granger," he turned on his heel and left.

Snape took his dinner to his office, where he ate in quiet peace. His mind whirred, mainly with the thought that Granger had been brave enough to return to the very room where she had been violated to continue her work. Even as he sat in his office, he was nearly shocked to be there; he should be outside the safe walls of Hogwarts, away from the poor girl. She was truly a wonder.

In any case, the Potions Master was eternally grateful; Hermione had not reported him, and therefore, she possibly spared him his life.

He still could not fully explain what had happened that terrible night. The course of events replayed in his mind like a horrible film.

_"Sir, I can't find the black beetle eyes." _

_Her voice was quiet, but sudden, and he had not been expecting it. He snapped his head up to look at her, an eyebrow raised. Last he was aware, the eyes were towards the front of the shelves, and within plain view. Silently he cursed the house elves; if they had dared touch his stores, there would be hell to pay._

_Granger had stared at him expectantly, and he stood slowly. The door to the storeroom was wide open and Snape eased himself onto the stepladder. Sure enough, the beetle eyes were right where he recalled. He plucked them off the shelf._

_"You didn't look very hard," he growled at her, handing the jar to her. His rough fingers brushed against hers softly as the jar was exchanged. _

_Pushing past her, Snape left her bristling in annoyance as he returned to his desk. He bent over the essays that his fourth year students had turned in; the students were lucky if they received a "Dreadful" for the pitiful bunch of assignments. _

_Instead of insult his intelligence with the homework assignments, Snape decided to assist his apprentice with her work. He stood from his desk and swept to the doorway of his private laboratory; she stood not too far away with her back to him, measuring out the beetle eyes._

_He wondered if she realized that she was hurrying the draught along. If she wanted it brewed correctly, she should wait another half hour before adding the eyes. Her gesture suggested she thought otherwise, and before she had the chance to ruin her work, Snape interjected calmly:_

_"You have not waited long enough, Granger."_

_Her reaction was unexpected; she jumped nearly four feet in the air, and both the spoon and the eyes fell into the cauldron. She swore; the potion was turning murky brown._

_Granger turned on him quickly, and the anger in her eyes took him by surprise; he recognized it as the fury he so often times felt. "Damn it!" she cursed, glaring up at him furiously. "You scared me, and now it's ruined!"_

_A pang of guilt struck Snape as he stared at her silently. He towered over her, but she was not to be intimidated; yet another trait that he had, and one he had prided himself on as well. "Thank you, professor! Thank you! Because you insist on creeping around like some sort of… I don't know, thing! It's ruined!" _

_If she hadn't been so angry, he would have allowed his lip to curl in a sneer. In her frustration, she was babbling, and it was not becoming of her. _

_Severus' eyes lifted from her face to follow the large dripping bubbles that floated into the air. When they popped, they sent drops of scalding liquid raining down on them, burning their skin. And yet, Hermione seemed so furious she ignored the pain entirely._

_She was not so unlike him, this student._

_"Damn it!" She turned quickly, distinguishing the flames beneath the cauldron with a flick of her wand. Slowly, she also began to pop the bubbles above them without raining molten potion down on her. "That was nearly a week's worth of work!"_

_She was not so unlike him, this Hermione Granger. She had a true love for the art of potions, something that was quite uncommon in this day and age. She was a true intellect, and she proved it, nearly every afternoon they met; he could quiz her on nearly anything alchemical and without a doubt, she would have the answer to it. No matter how advanced the topic was._

_And here she was, pure fury burning in her eyes because she had seemingly wasted her time on a difficult draught that he had ruined. Suddenly he saw himself in her; she was the Severus Snape of her class. Granted, she was not obsessed with the dark arts or quite the despised outcast that he had been. But she was different from her classmates._

_He felt the urge to touch her. It was more than an urge. It was a longing, a need. She wasn't very far away, not even an arm's length away._ _The wild mass of her hair had been tied back at the nape of her neck with a red and gold ribbon – so very _Gryffindor_._

_Slowly reaching his hand out to her, she unknowingly turned on him, surely to curse at him some more. Without thinking and seemingly without any control, he pulled her into his arms._

Snape shut off all thought at that point. He could not bear to relive the atrocity that was… _him_. His appetite had been extinguished. In fact, a nausea rose in him and he pushed the plate away. There was no logical explanation for why he raped her.

So what if she was so like him? What authority did that give him to rob her childhood, her innocence? Why did that sudden realization cause him to lose his control like that? But most importantly, why is she subjecting herself to his company once more?

For once, he was plagued with questions that Albus Dumbledore could not answer.

Slamming his fist down on his desk, Snape cursed. He did not deserve the protection of the Headmaster or his school.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" he fumed aloud.

He hadn't heard the knock at the door or the slow creak of someone entering. And so, he was startled when he received a reply to his seemingly rhetorical question.

"I suppose that answer could vary depending on who you were asking, Severus."


	5. Chapter 5

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.  
>Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling<p>

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 5**

Professor Dumbledore stood in the entranceway, staring down his crooked nose at the younger wizard. Snape was visibly startled at the sight of the old man, but tried to calm as he invited the headmaster to take a seat.

Shutting the door behind him, the old wizard obliged. "Now, if you were to ask me that very question, Severus, I would probably say that you are a terribly lonely man, desperate for worthy company." Snape scowled at this apparent insult, but Dumbledore disregarded it. "However, if you were addressing a student, perhaps… Mr. Potter, the answer would in all likelihood be entirely different."

"Well, Headmaster, with all due respect – the question was actually quite rhetorical," Snape growled.

"But perhaps, if you were to ask Miss Granger, I bet she would offer 'nothing' as an answer," Dumbledore considered. "Speaking of which, how is she doing?"

Snape considered Dumbledore's motives for a moment. Did he really travel to the dungeons for idle small talk with the Potions Master, or was there something else up his sleeve? Deciding to play along, Snape answered:

"Astoundingly well, actually. I admit I am not surprised that she far exceeds seventh year level, but her knowledge of alchemy appears far more advanced than even postgraduate level."

The headmaster steepled his bony fingers before him as he listened. Snape thought for a moment that perhaps he had no ulterior motives; perhaps Dumbledore was simply wondering how all of his employees' apprenticeships were doing.

A knock at the door distracted both men, but Snape answered with a gruff "come in." The door opened and Hermione Granger found herself under the gaze of two of the most powerful wizards she knew.

Her eyes widened ever so slightly as she absorbed the sight before her. She smiled faintly at Dumbledore and greeted him cordially.

"If I'm interrupting, I can come back later," she offered awkwardly, her eyes darting nervously between Snape and Dumbledore.

"Oh, no, no, dear girl, that's quite unnecessary. We were actually just discussing you, come in, come in! Join in on the conversation, it would be terribly rude to talk about you behind your back, after all," the old wizard was beaming at her.

Hermione nodded slowly, her confusion apparent in her face as she looked at Snape. He gestured to the very chair she had taken when they had _their_ discussion, and nervously, she sat down.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

She considered his question for a moment, wondering what he was talking about. The metaphorical light bulb flashed on as she realized he was asking about her apprenticeship.

"Oh, yes, very much so, sir! It is so exciting to learn to brew such advanced potions. It's only been a month, and yet, I feel I've learned so much!"

"Wonderful, wonderful," Dumbledore clapped his hands in delight. He stood from his chair, looking down at Snape. "Well, your apprentice seems to require your assistance, and I hate to interfere. Professor Snape, if you would be so kind as to visit me in my office tomorrow afternoon following classes. I have something to discuss with you."

Snape nodded, "Yes, of course. Good evening, Headmaster."

Dumbledore bowed out, leaving Hermione and Snape alone. She waited until she heard the classroom door click shut. "Does he… know?"

"I cannot be sure, Miss Granger," Snape replied dryly. "Though I can assure you, that if he did, I would in all likelihood be unemployed."

Hermione nodded slowly in understanding. "So he was just asking about how I was doing?"

"It seemed he had no ulterior motive," Snape said, looking at her evenly. "Though I suspect he did come here to discuss other things, when you interrupted."

Hermione moved to sit in the chair that Dumbledore had occupied. Snape sat up a little straighter as Hermione sat down across from him, her eyes flickering to the meat-filled dinner he had provided himself, and her stomach growled loudly.

Uncertain how to act in such situations, the Potions Master pushed the plate of food towards his apprentice in offering. She waved her hand in an unintentionally dismissive manner.

"No, no, thank you. I don't eat meat," she replied softly. "I came here because… I was wondering if I could talk to you."

Snape stared at her from across his desk. Suddenly he had become her solace, after being the cause of her distress? She was a peculiar young woman indeed. He considered her for a moment; he could deny her now, and perhaps she would smarten up and avoid any more tête-à-têtes with him. Would his conscience allow him that?

_I'm a former Death Eater, for God's sake. _And yet somehow, he could not deprive her of her only consolation in her time of need. She had made it perfectly clear she intended to tell no one of the event. He was all she had.

She wasn't a sappy second year Slytherin who needed counseling, she was an intelligent, mature, seventh year Gryffindor – his _apprentice_ – and she was not whining over a pathetic relationship or an unfair grade, though the latter he may not have put past her.

"Yes, Miss Granger," he allowed.

"Well," she began, staring at her hands. "It's about the draught. As far as I can tell, I have followed the directions exactly as they are in the text. I have done everything the same as I had before, and yet I'm receiving different results. And they're not the proper results, either. At this stage, the cauldron is supposed to emit a manure-like odor and the potion is supposed to be a dark red, and right now, the entire lab smells like lavender and the potion is lime green."

"What cauldron are you using?" Snape asked, relieved she hadn't decided to confide in him some deep emotional frustration.

"The same pewter cauldron I had used to brew before," Hermione replied sullenly.

"Let me see," Snape stood from his desk and Hermione followed suit. She led him to the problem cauldron, and surely enough, all was as she had explained.

"Curious," Snape said. "Did you clean out the cauldron before you began working?"

"Of course, sir," Hermione replied, almost insulted that he would insinuate such lack of care.

The pair of them stared into the cauldron for a moment, Hermione's hair falling loose out of her ponytail. Something occurred to Snape suddenly, and looking up at Hermione, he considered tucking the tendril of hair behind her ear.

Instead of violating the trust she had somehow managed to return to him, he settled for words. "Miss Granger, your hair."

Absently she pushed the stray piece back behind her ear, and then it occurred to her what he was suggesting.

"Oh, no. A piece of hair fell into… oh, no," she looked completely defeated. "How could I have been so careless? Professor, I'm sorry, I'm wasting your time…"

Snape stared at her in shock. Wasting his time? Was she completely mad? She was still in the painstakingly long process of recovering from assault, let alone still associating with her abuser – and here she was, chastising herself for a bit of carelessness.

"Miss Granger," he began. "If you had begun our lessons again as the student you were before, I would have been entirely amazed. You have undergone a great deal of trauma, and I do not expect from you complete perfection. You are healing, recovering; let alone doing so with the very person who" – he gritted his teeth against the word – "raped you. It would be cruel of me, after what you have done for me, to punish you for making a simple mistake."

Hermione looked at him, her eyes wet. "I'm sorry, sir. I've been… distracted these past few days. Every day I second-guess my decisions, and I used to be so confident in my ability to make decisions. And yet, here I am, screwing up a potion simply because I can't tie my hair back in a stupid ponytail!" She slammed her fist down on the desk. "Why is this so hard?"

"Miss Granger… Hermione," he dared, "I will never try to prevent you from reporting me to Professor Dumbledore. If you feel you need to do so…"

"No!" Hermione interrupted. "No, it's not that. Professor, you don't understand. I _can't_ do that. In order to protect the students from a potential threat, Professor Dumbledore would be forced to fire you or face the wrath of parents and the Ministry alike. And if that happened, not only would you be at risk, but so would Harry, and the Order, and… it's just not worth it." She let her gaze fall to the floor, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"You are such an honorable young woman," Snape said, slowly reaching a hand out with intentions to cup Hermione's chin, but then thought better of it. He let it fall to his side. "Ever since you began demonstrating your true potential, I had always wondered how you had ended up in Gryffindor over Ravenclaw or Slytherin. But, as cunning and brilliant as you are, you are just as noble and honorable. And even now, when the only person you should be caring for is yourself, you are taking it upon yourself to care for the entire wizarding world.

"Hermione, look at me." She lifted her face to meet his eyes, and the intense sincerity took her by surprise. She barely registered the fact he was using her first name. He continued speaking:

"In these past few weeks, you have demonstrated to me that you are not simply the insufferable know-it-all I had presumed you to be. You are truly an intellectual, your intelligence struggling to survive in this world of dunderheaded Quidditch players and incompetent Ministry officials. You are brilliant, Hermione, but you are also an honest, good person. But because of your desire to protect those you love, you are willing to neglect your own well-being, which is anything _but _brilliant."

Hermione stared at her professor. She wondered if whom he was presenting to her now was the person he truly was, and the cold, snarky persona of the professor she was so familiar with was simply a façade.

The silence that overtook the room weighed heavily down on its attendants. Hermione, having had taken a seat as she listened to her professor, stared up at the man standing barely two feet away. It wasn't an awkward silence, but both were slightly uncomfortable, unsure of what to do, and unsure of what their company would do.

"I should probably go back to the common room," Hermione said quietly, letting her eyes fall to her hands. "I promised Harry and Ron I would help them with their homework. Not potions," she added quickly, looking up at him. "Defense against the dark arts. Professor Huxley is a very talented wizard, but his teaching methods are a little confusing at times. Sometimes I think Harry should just take to instructing the class himself," she let out a small laugh.

Snape was not amused, but he didn't say anything on the topic either. "Well, there is not much here we can do."

"I'll clean up and leave," Hermione said, standing and gathering up the vials of ingredients. Snape nodded to her and lingered for a moment. Hermione brushed past him, the contact stirring something deep inside her. She made for the stores, forcing her thoughts from her mind, and returned the jars back to their proper location.

When she turned to close the door, Snape had crossed the room to his desk. With a wave of his wand, Hermione felt the door grow slightly colder, and she knew he had replaced the wards. After Hermione had finished tidying up her work area, she closed the door behind her and felt a similar sensation of a sudden coldness on the door. Snape was not in the room any longer, so she assumed he had cast the wards to activate as she closed the door and left for his rooms.

Exiting the classroom, she made her way towards Gryffindor tower.

* * *

><p>Severus climbed the stairs that led to the main castle. He was in a terribly foul mood; the classes of the day had been nothing short of horrendous. The third year students were directed to brew a simple shrinking solution, and by the end of the class, four students had been escorted to the hospital wing with shrunken appendages and a fifth with a missing (or perhaps, microscopic) ear.<p>

His fourth year class was no better. The students were required to brew Wit-Sharpening Potions, and yet none of them had succeeded. Two cauldrons had been melted, one student was sent to the hospital wing with burns to their arms, and another student had somehow managed to explode their cauldron, sending two more students to the hospital wing with wounds from cauldron shrapnel.

Needless to say, the poor saps in his final class of the day were in for a treat.

"Butterscotch drops," he snarled at the gargoyle, which leapt from his path and allowed him entrance to the stairwell.

As the staircase brought him to the entrance of Dumbledore's office, Snape rolled over the possibilities of why he had asked him there. He had always suspected Dumbledore knew more than he let on, and perhaps even without Granger reporting him, he already knew. Or, perhaps, it was something else entirely; the only other possibility was equally as dreadful.

Snape knocked on the door and opened it without awaiting invitation. The headmaster was seated behind his desk, his great phoenix perched on the high back.

"Ah, hello, Severus!" he greeted kindly, holding out a dish of sweets. Snape declined with a shake of his hand. "Very well then. Do take a seat!"

Snape sat down, instantly irritated by Dumbledore's apparent cheery mood. Glowering, he asked, "For what reason did you ask me here?"

"Ah, yes," his face darkened. "You have not received a summons from the Dark Lord in quite some time, yes?"

The minute the word "summons" left Dumbledore's mouth, the younger wizard's foul mood became even more so. Staring in the direction of Dumbledore's desk but not at anything in particular, Snape nodded.

"Which leaves me to suspect that he either currently has no schemes planned, or that he has decidedly left you out of them," Dumbledore considered. "Both of which are equally unnerving."

Nodding gravely, Snape remained silent. Dumbledore continued: "For what reason would he choose to leave you in the dark as to what he is planning? You are his right-hand man, so to speak. If he has chosen to exclude you from any activity, that leaves me to fear that perhaps Lestrange's accusations have finally come to the forefront of his attention."

"She has been questioning my loyalties the moment the Dark Lord returned to power, Headmaster. While I do understand your reasoning, I highly doubt that anything else she has claimed is any more valid than the past six years of accusations," Snape replied.

"But perhaps she has offered some information he has not heard before," Dumbledore replied.

"I cannot think of anything that she might have deemed as suspicious behavior, Headmaster." Snape leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees in contemplation.

"I suppose we will simply have to wait and see. Has young Malfoy spoken to you of anything?"

"If he had, Headmaster, I would have informed you already," Snape replied sourly. "We have not spoken much since the year started. I had assumed he would have come to me about the seventh year project, but I have heard nothing from him. The only time I see him is during class."

"He's lying low," Dumbledore considered. "Curious."

"Actually, Headmaster, I believe it would be more likely that if the Dark Lord were plotting something, Lucius would have ordered his son to be in my company more often than usual. I would not put it past Lucius to use young Malfoy as a spy, especially if the Dark Lord put him up to it," Snape looked hard at Dumbledore. The old man nodded.

"Perhaps." Silence fell between them as both men sat, thinking. Dumbledore finally excused Snape from his presence. "I will let you return to your business then, Severus. There is nothing more we can do now. We must wait."

* * *

><p>Sitting in the Gryffindor common room for the first time in what felt like years, Hermione curled up in the chair beside the hearth with a book open in her lap. She had finished her homework assignments an hour ago, and while Ron and Harry continued to pour over theirs, she had taken to the comfortable seat by the fire.<p>

She felt so calm and relaxed in the company of her schoolmates. She had not seen much of them since the beginning of the school year, and even in the brief period of avoiding Snape, she had retreated to her private rooms the majority of the time.

She let her mind wander from the novel in her lap as she stared in the direction of her two friends. They both seemed very absorbed in their work, and she smiled to herself. Seven years had passed since she met Harry and Ron, and yet it seemed like a blink of an eye. The two boys had grown into very charming young men, and if they weren't like her brothers, she could possibly desire to pursue more than their friendship with either of them.

But no, Harry was very much in love with Ginny, which was blatantly obvious as the two spent the majority of their time snogging in the seventh year boys' dormitories. Ron had taken to it lightly; it was his best friend and his younger sister, and if anyone was going to treat her right, it was Harry Potter.

In the past, Ron had obvious intentions of deepening his relationship with Hermione, and while they attempted a romance, it was simply not intellectually satisfying enough for her. One morning she awoke following the nightmare of having to listen to talks of Quidditch at the breakfast table every morning for the rest of her life, and it simply would not do. Ron understood enough, though it was horrid for Hermione to break her best friend's heart.

That was last year. Ron had since come to accept the fact that he and Hermione were simply meant to be only friends, and slowly began to pursue other girls. Unfortunately for him most of his classmates were less than charming, but he was at least able to exert some of his sexual frustration.

Hermione, on the other hand, decided to focus on her schoolwork and her future, and abandoned romance to the furthest most corners of her brain. She had always believed in saving oneself for marriage, and she was in no rush for that. The Head Girl wanted to find steady employment and have a settled life before allowing anyone in it.

And up until a few weeks ago, all had gone according to plan. She wanted nothing more than to become a potions mistress, and when Professor Snape accepted her apprenticeship she was nothing short of ecstatic. The first month of working together had been simply phenomenal; she was learning so much about the intriguing subject and was able to put to practice so many of the potions she had been so interested in but never allowed the ingredients to brew.

She had even begun to grow comfortable with Professor Snape. They had developed a comfortable routine in which she was allowed to come and go as she pleased so long as she produced acceptable results and made an appearance on the days he required. He even went so far as to allow her unlimited access to his private stores and laboratory; the only thing he did not do, it seemed, was offer the passwords to the wards.

She had begun to trust Snape in ways she had not before. Previous to their working together, she simply believed in his loyalty to Dumbledore. Beyond that, he was nothing more than a cruel professor that was very skilled and intelligent, but one she did not wish to spend too much time with.

And then he raped her. While being the most horrific event of her entire life, she couldn't help but also feel that it was… what was the word? "Wonderful" was putting it a bit far. He had forced his way into her, but it seemed at the same time that he wanted to pleasure her, and gods, had he! True, the moment he took her virginity she had felt like he was tearing her in two, but up until that point and shortly thereafter, he had made her feel _amazing_.

But there was no denying that had he not forced himself upon her, she would have never felt that way. And while a part of her wished that it had never happened and resented him for it, a deeper part of her wished that it could develop into something more.

Needless to say, Hermione Granger was terribly confused about how she felt towards her mentor. And his "speech" to her yesterday evening only proved to baffle her even more. Following the events of that fateful evening, Snape had nearly changed his demeanor towards her entirely. It left her wondering whether the professor she had always known him to be was simply an act.

As her professor, he was a cruel, sarcastic, vindictive, sadistic man. As her mentor, he was understanding, regretful, kind, sympathetic; all adjectives that if anyone used to describe the well-known Professor Snape, they would immediately be admitted to St. Mungo's.

And yet last evening, he had called her "intelligent" and "honorable," among other things. He had cascaded upon her a waterfall of compliments and comfort, and it seemed so unlike the professor she had known for the past six years. Then, she had been an "insufferable know-it-all," which had been a title she so abhorred. But now, she was an intellectual trying to survive in a world that did not value intellect any longer.

He had used her first name, as well. It may have seemed such a minute thing to (and from) anyone else, but coming from Professor Snape to Hermione, it was a term of friendship, if that wasn't too ludicrous to assume. And when she had managed to look him in the eye, the sincerity and sorrow was so apparent in the darkness of them.

And for a brief moment, she wanted to take his hand and forgive him entirely for what he had done to her.

She had never seen a person bear so much remorse before. Especially considering his past as an active Death Eater, she could only imagine the atrocities he committed before he joined in Dumbledore's alliance.

Perhaps the difference was that Hermione had known him, trusted him? Perhaps if she had been a complete stranger he wouldn't have reacted so strongly.

She would never be sure.


	6. Chapter 6

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.  
>Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling<p>

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 6**

Within the next few days, Hermione made a habit out of spending nearly every afternoon in the potions dungeon. Completely absorbed in the work, she finally managed to get herself back on track and produce the exceptional results she had grown so accustomed to.

Her return to normalcy was not overlooked by Snape. While she worked in his laboratory, he remained at a distance, but kept a watch on her all the same. She fearlessly asked for his help when she needed it, and it was a real comfort to know that she was finally overcoming what had transgressed between them.

That was not to say she wasn't still cautious around the professor, but she did seem a great deal more like herself. He began to appreciate her company for what it was; she was an intelligent debater, offering legitimate and sensible arguments for her opinion, whether it was the significance of arithmancy in potions-brewing or why Trismegistus was a greater alchemist than Elrick. Even when Severus was faced with a perplexing problem, Hermione offered solutions he might otherwise never have thought of.

She would be a very competent potions mistress, if nothing else came of their time together. Snape silently chastised himself as he watched her move from the lab to the storeroom. He should not desire anything more than the relationship (if one could call it that) they had already developed. And yet, there was something deep inside him that desired so much more.

Often times he lay in bed late into the night pondering how he felt towards Miss Hermione Granger. She was a brilliant young woman; he hadn't had the enjoyment of such competent company in quite some time. She was compassionate and caring, which had been so honorably demonstrated the instant she told him she was not going to report him for his crime. She was, in essence, the perfect woman, really. And she graced Severus with her presence; if only she weren't his student!

But after long sessions of contemplation, he always shook off any considerations as complete insanity. She was his student, and as far as he knew, she wasn't even of legal age yet.

For fear of doing anything he would later regret, he kept his distance from the girl. It was bad enough that he had confessed so much to her in a moment of weakness; the look of defeat on her normally proud features was terrible for him to bear, especially considering that he was the cause of such frustration. Fortunately, she neither brought their conversation up nor used it against him. She simply listened, accepted what he had to say, and moved on.

Tuesday afternoon saw a change in her usual routine however; the clock struck four, and she was nowhere to be seen. Snape, of course, neither expected nor required her attendance, but when she did not show, his thoughts did linger on where else she may be.

For most of the afternoon, the Potions Master found himself grading homework assignments that were less appalling than usual. When the dinner bells sang, Severus accepted the interruption with graciousness and made his way towards the Great Hall. Any students that had been unfortunate enough to cross his path found their house points (for the most part) unharmed. He was forced to separate a few students from publicly displaying their affections, and those were the few who saw their house points dwindle slightly.

From the High Table, Snape was easily able to survey the large hall. He recognized the barely manageable mass of curly hair that was his apprentice with her usual company. For a fleeting moment, the Potions Master felt a pang of jealousy in the pit of his stomach, but the feeling passed.

His appetite suddenly extinguished, Severus stared at his empty plate fiercely.

* * *

><p>"Ron, tell Harry I'll talk to him tomorrow, will you?" Hermione asked. "I should really be getting to bed, I'm exhausted."<p>

Standing from her place on the floor, Hermione flattened out the wrinkles in her jeans. Ron nodded, "Yeah, sure. G'night, Hermione."

Waving farewell, the Head Girl climbed through the portrait hole for a leisurely detour to her private rooms. She couldn't shake the restless feeling in her legs and figured a nice walk would do her good.

The Fat Lady managed a 'tut' as Hermione walked away without so much as an acknowledgement in the portrait's direction. The evening had unfortunately been spent discussing any news regarding Voldemort, which Harry had none. Being the cautious one, Hermione offered a few suggestions as to what could be happening, but both Ron and Harry disregarded her thoughts entirely.

Slightly insulted, Hermione tried to brush it off. They were boys, and they always thought they were right. Despite how many times Hermione had saved their lives in the past, and how many times she could have if they had just _listened_!

"Professor Snape would have listened," Hermione grumbled quietly as she moved down the corridor. "_Lumos_." She turned down a corridor just as the lamps were being extinguished, and suddenly she was bathed in darkness. "He wouldn't have thought my ideas were stupid."

Faintly, Hermione heard the whisper of fabric. Disregarding it as the curtains moving in the cool October wind, she continued down the hall.

"Sometimes those two can be so bothersome," she whispered to herself. The portraits along the walls stirred from their slumber and glared at her disdainfully.

Turning down a windowless corridor, Hermione caught the sound of moving fabric again. Without any curtains in the hall, she knew she was not alone.

"Who's there?" Holding out her wand, squinting through the darkness, Hermione strained to see the silhouette of her company. Suddenly they came into view, grasping her wand hand and lowering it. Their own wand illuminated near her face, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"What are you doing, wandering the corridors so late, Miss Granger?" came the oily voice.

"Head Girl duties, Professor Snape," she replied, smiling at the irony of her relief at seeing Professor Snape in the corridors past curfew.

"It is well past curfew, girl," he growled, staring her down.

"I am well aware," she retorted bravely. "I am also aware that, as Head Girl, my list of privileges allows me to disregard the curfew."

His lip curling, Snape released his hold on her hand at last. Her wand was still illuminated but offering little light, Snape's positioned perfectly so that she could clearly see his features. Even so, she raised hers, and suddenly acknowledged the distance (or lack thereof) between herself and her professor. She drew in a sharp breath, but never moved her eyes from his.

The Potions Master's wand hand slackened slightly and the movement threw the stream of light flickering awkward shadows across his face. Hermione, her eyes finally adjusted to the weak lighting, lowered her gaze to his mouth, then back to his eyes, and back again. She felt the familiar tug in her lower stomach again and suddenly felt the strongest impulse to close the remaining distance between them. She took a step forward, her eyes never leaving his.

With less than a foot between their bodies, Hermione dropped her wand hand to her side, the light slowly dimming until there was none. She could see her reflection in the darkness of his eyes, lit by his wand.

Raising a trembling hand to his cheek, Hermione pushed the long strands of hair back from his face. He stared at her intensely and leaned down to her; she willed her nerves to stop wracking. Her heart was fluttering in her chest, her stomach turning circles in her nervousness. He stopped, mere inches from her face, and she longed for him to close the remaining distance.

He moved forward, and his mouth was next to her ear. The warm breath was tantalizing. Something in her groin was twisting and tugging as he softly breathed on her ear, tickling her neck.

"I suggest you return to your rooms, Miss Granger, before I deduct house points for inappropriate behavior." She knew it was not an honest threat, but pulled her hand away from him and nodded.

"Yes, of course, sir," she whispered, bowing her head and turning on her heel. She left him breathing in her lingering scent.

* * *

><p>Snape paced the length of his living room furiously. Having fled the scene in the corridor moments after she had abandoned him there, his mind was a flurry of thoughts and emotions.<p>

Was the girl absolutely mad? He had near ravaged her body barely a month previous, and she was now offering herself to him willingly? He must have done more damage than he initially thought – come to think of it, she _had _seemed to recover rather quickly, especially in the presence of her attacker. The event must have driven all sanity from her mind!

_What the hell is she thinking?_ The same question came to mind numerous times as he burned a trail in the carpet.

_Having yet another bout of insomnia and no desire to subject himself to the mind-numbing chore that was grading essays, nor having the desire to begin the task of writing an exam, Severus had decided to patrol the halls. He had heard the portrait hole of Gryffindor Tower swing open and the Fat Lady make a disapproving noise, and thought he had found a student or two in the process of sneaking back to their own houses._

Or,_ he reflected, _Potter and Weasley once again sticking their noses where they don't belong.

_As he backed around a corner, he saw Hermione Granger turn down the hallway, probably en route to her own rooms. Regardless, Head Girl or not, she was dangerously near her own "special" curfew – not to mention, he was still slightly irritated by her unexpected absence in his classroom that afternoon. _

_She was talking to herself, which had he not come to know her these past weeks, he would have found slightly odd. He was too far to make sense of the mumbling, and kept the safe distance between them as he quietly followed her, waiting for the opportune moment to make his presence known._

_That moment never came as she realized suddenly that she was, in fact, not alone. She brandished her illuminated wand, turning on the spot. "Who's there?" Her voice came quiet, but firm._

_Illuminating his own wand, Severus stepped forward. She stared through the darkness as he grasped her wand hand in his free one and lowered the offending weapon from face-level. _

"_What are you doing, wandering the corridors so late, Miss Granger?" He sneered._

_He heard her breathe a sigh of relief, and through the light of his wand saw her mouth twitch into a smile. "Head Girl duties, Professor Snape."_

"_It is well past curfew, girl," he growled._

"_I am well aware," she replied. "I am also aware that, as Head Girl, my list of privileges allows me to disregard the curfew."_

_He released her hand, his lips curling at her reply. Her face was softly illuminated by the glow of his wand, hers being too far to light much but the ground. He was watching her face as she raised her wand ever so slightly, and saw the flash of recognition in her eyes as she realized the closeness of their bodies. This would be the moment that would define the future of their working together; if she pushed away, they would both understand their boundaries. If she did not… Severus knew not what that would mean for their relationship._

_She drew in a sudden breath, but did not move away. If anything, she moved closer, but he could have imagined it. In either case, her action stirred something below his belt. He longed to close the gap between them._

_Absently, Severus lowered his wand just slightly, throwing shadows across Hermione's face. She was looking over his features, and the tiniest movement told him she had taken a step forward. _

_He felt the urge to just pull her into his arms and close his mouth upon hers, but he restrained. He simply watched her as the wheels in her mind whirled, the light fading from her face as her wand lowered and then dimmed. _

_She reached her small hand to his face, and, resisting the urge to lean into the touch, Snape watched her eyes. She pushed a strand of his hair from his face, her hand lingering, and he could feel her trembling. Slowly, Severus leaned down to her, just centimeters from her lips. He felt her tip her head slightly to welcome the gesture, but he moved past her face to her ear. His soft breath raised gooseflesh along her neck, her breathing frantic and uneven._

_Releasing a slow breath, Snape whispered, "I suggest you return to your rooms, Miss Granger, before I deduct house points for inappropriate behavior." His threat was empty, and he suspected she was aware of it. Regardless, she nodded her agreement._

"_Yes, of course, sir," she replied. Turning on her heel, she left him, breathing in her scent._

Collapsing onto the sofa near his lit hearth, Snape rubbed at his temples. She was his apprentice, his student! His _teenaged_ student, for God's sake! And yet here she was, making him feel ways he had not felt since…

* * *

><p>After their chance encounter in the hall, Hermione had quickly retreated to her rooms. The pit of her stomach was aflutter with butterflies it seemed, every nerve in her body aware of the movement of fabric against flesh.<p>

She had never felt such an urge before. The fact that it was Snape whom she was feeling so strongly for, for whom her body was reacting so strongly towards – it disturbed her. Snape had raped her, a fact she tried to remind herself of whenever her body began to betray her as it had tonight. Yet, no matter how many times she reminded herself of it, she still woke from dreams of Snape above her, moving within her…

Running the shower, Hermione delicately stripped off her clothes. What was she thinking, reaching out to Professor Snape like that? The man was sick with guilt from what he did to her, and she was only becoming _too _comfortable with him. Climbing into the shower, Hermione wracked her brain. Spending nearly every moment of her day with him was one thing; touching him as intimately as she had… that was another thing entirely. That was the sort of thing that would lead to other… _things_.

The trickle of water flowing over her curves calmed her nerves slightly. Her mind still ran amuck with thoughts, but her body was relaxing.

Turning her back to the shower stream, Hermione massaged her head with her fingers, soaking her hair. Occasionally she wondered had the course of events never taken place, would she still begin feeling such a strange way for her professor? After all, they were working in close proximity most of the time, and he definitely provided her the intelligent company she so desired. It was truly nice to have someone understand her tangents of thought, someone who could heatedly debate with her his own opinion. Ron and Harry, whose knowledge on Quidditch could offer her a challenge had she cared, were simply not intellectually satisfying enough for her.

Hermione worked shampoo into her hair. If their relationship had continued as it had previous to his molestation of her, would it have developed into what it was now? A part of her severely doubted it, for he would not have opened up to her and made himself so vulnerable through his guilt. But perhaps he would have grown comfortable with her company, come to appreciate it as she did – and then maybe he would have offered himself to her as he had been doing.

Vaguely, as she rinsed her hair, Hermione wondered if he had felt the same intense urge to kiss her as she had him. If he had only allowed it, she would have let him take her right there in the hall. If only.

The thought of Professor Snape forcing her against the wall and pushing himself into her brought a twinge of excitement in Hermione's nether regions. Closing her eyes, her hand led the way from her head to the heat between her legs.

* * *

><p>Snape sat cross-legged on his bed, bent over an old shabby photo album. The pictures, like all magical photographs, were animated and the people within them smiled up at him. A tear fell from his hooked nose and stained the pages beneath him.<p>

A redheaded girl, no older than fifteen, stood with her arm hooked through a young Severus'. She was laughing and smiling, leaning into Snape as the photographer snapped the picture. Severus too, was smiling and laughing.

The next picture contained the same redheaded girl, but she was clad in her school robes, the Gryffindor crest portrayed proudly on the left breast. She waved at the camera, smiling and glancing off the edge of the photograph. Snape knew that she was looking at his younger self, who had been approaching as the flashbulb burst.

He turned the page and a folded sheet of paper slid into Severus' lap. Picking up the paper, he wiped angrily at his eyes, and unfolded the bottom portion of the paper.

_sometimes I just can't understand why he has to be so arrogant, Sev. It isn't as if he's better than anybody else._  
><em>I can't wait for Hogsmeade this weekend. You'll meet me in the Entrance Hall, right?<em>

_All my love,_  
><em>Lily<em>

A new set of tears leaked from Severus' eyes and he folded the note and slid it back into the album. Slamming it shut, he leaned back into his pillows. He had sworn, after Voldemort murdered Lily, he would never let himself feel for another woman. And here Granger was, innocently tugging at his heartstrings.

Snape moved the photo album to his bedside table and eased his way under the warm comforter of his bed. It was sometime past midnight, and with classes in the morning, he needed to get some rest.

* * *

><p><em>Wednesday afternoon found Hermione hurrying to the dungeons. She had been running late all day, and wanted to offer Professor Snape no reason to punish her. She pushed open the dungeons door, but found an empty classroom.<em>

_Scanning the room, she saw his office door was slightly ajar. Pulling the classroom door closed with a quiet click, Hermione moved to his office and slowly pushed the door open. There he was, leaning over a long sheet of parchment._

"_Professor?" she said quietly. "I don't mean to interrupt – I just wanted to let you know I was here."_

"_Ah, yes, Miss Granger." Snape didn't look up from his desk. _

_Pausing, Hermione looked at him curiously. His voice had a tone that led her to believe he wasn't finished, but when he made no gesture to continue, she began to turn towards the door. She heard his chair scrape against the stone floor. When she turned, he had come around his desk and stood a few feet away from her._

"_Yes, sir?" Hermione asked, a little nervously._

_He came closer to her, but Hermione was rooted to the spot. His hands reached out and grabbed her arms, pulling her easily into him. Pressing his mouth against hers, he pushed her body up against a cabinet and kissed her deeply._

_His strong hands slid down her body and into her skirt, and she let out a sharp gasp as he began rubbing at her. Hermione returned his kiss full-force, pushing her tongue into his mouth and rocking her hips against his hand. _

"_Hermione…" Snape growled, his tone so low it reverberated through Hermione's body._

Hermione sat up in bed, her breathing heavy. Looking around frantically, she spied the navy sky through her curtains, the orange glow of the sun peeking out over the horizon. Her body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and as she shifted her legs, found her panties were moist.

"Oh, dear gods," she groaned as she fell back into the pillows. Crookshanks leapt gracefully onto her bed and curled up in the crook of her waist. She let her hand fall to his head as she scratched lovingly, her mind replaying her dream.

"Should I talk to him, Crookshanks?" Hermione asked her cat. His squished face peered at her through golden eyes. "Maybe I should talk to him, and sort all of this nonsense out."

The orange tabby mewed, and Hermione took it as agreement. Surely, Snape would not be awake at this hour but she wanted to clear the air before classes started, and it would be the only thing on her mind.

* * *

><p>A loud noise bellowed through Snape's ears. He cracked his heavy eyes enough to look at the grandfather clock in the corner. It was barely five o'clock. The heavy noise sounded again, and it took him a moment to realize someone was knocking at the door.<p>

And another moment passed before he realized it was his office door. He considered momentarily who would bother him at this hour; it couldn't be Filch, because the caretaker knew the whereabouts of the entrance to Severus' private quarters.

He climbed out of bed and pulled on his dressing gown. Whoever it was waking him so early had better have a damn good reason for doing so. Snape swept through his living room and through the door that delivered him into his office.

The knocking did not cease as Snape made his way through to his office. It only grew more frantic as more time wore on, and when Snape wrenched open the door in irritation, he was not prepared to see a tired-looking Hermione standing there, her hand raised as if she were going to continue to knock.

She, too, seemed surprised to have been greeted in such a way. "Good morning, professor," she began awkwardly.

Staring at the sight before him, the Potions Master tried to absorb it. His apprentice was standing outside his office at quarter after five in the morning. It suddenly occurred to him that something must be terribly wrong; for what other reason would she be there?

Grabbing her arm, he pulled her into his office, closing the door behind her. The sudden force threw the Head Girl off balance, and she fell into the uncomfortable chair she had so often inhabited this year. Severus stood before her, and even in his pajamas and dressing gown, Hermione was feeling slightly intimidated, vulnerable.

"Is something amiss?" Snape demanded, staring at her fiercely.

Hermione's amber eyes widened as she realized he was in a slight panic. "No, no, sir! I just… I thought that it was time we discussed our current… relationship." The last word was pronounced carefully, as if she was uncertain to call it that.

Realizing the serious tone in her voice, Severus slowly seated himself behind his desk. Hermione had straightened up in the chair he had practically tossed her into, and he could tell she was trying to make this conversation as mature as she could.

"Continue," he offered.

Suddenly, she reverted back to the uncertain girl he had seen days after he violated her. She curled her legs up next to her in the chair and intently began examining her fingernails.

"Last night, Professor," she began quietly. "I… I guess I'm not entirely certain how I feel about you. I know how I should feel about you, but in all reality, what I should and what I do are two entirely different things. I should hate you. I should have reported you. I should want to see you as far away from me as magically possible." She paused, looking up at him seriously. "But I don't. I don't feel any of those things.

"These past few weeks, I have grown extremely comfortable with you. I enjoy being in your company because you offer something my friends cannot: an intellectual adversary. We can discuss and debate topics that neither Harry nor Ron would have the faintest clue about. We can challenge each other's theories, test each other's solutions – I have truly come to appreciate your company.

"And while I should hate you for raping me, I feel as if it's the complete opposite. I don't hate you. What I feel doesn't even come close to hatred towards you. I think about you, I dream about you, I miss you when I'm not with you. It's completely absurd, I know! You stole my virginity, and yet, just last night, I have never felt such strong an urge in my life.

"Alone in that corridor with you, I wanted so badly just to kiss you, to feel what it would be like if I wanted it." At that, she blushed furiously and lowered her gaze. "There is something horribly wrong with me, there must be."

Severus stared at her, slightly awed. Five minutes had not passed and she had confessed so much to him, and he had no idea how to handle it. He could insult her, belittle her, push her away, like he had done so many others in his past. But he did not want to.

In fact, he wanted to draw her into his arms and hold her. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to do that, either. The only thing he could do, it seemed, was stare at her pretty face.

"Tell me," she said quietly, looking into his eyes. "Tell me you feel the same?"

Snape slowly considered his words. The opportune moment to reject her, and yet he found it was not so simple. He lowered his gaze.

"So then…" she sighed, the defeated tone in her voice he had grown to hate so much. "It is just in my head. All of it." She stood slowly, her eyes red with tears. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Professor Snape."

"Wait." Before she reached the door, Severus had moved around his desk and touched her shoulder. She turned, looking at him, her eyes shiny and her cheeks wet.

He bent to her, kissing her lips softly.


	7. Chapter 7

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.  
>Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling<p>

Author's Note: I feel like I need to constantly thank of all you for your continued support and enjoyment of this story. It brings a smile to my face every time I read a review, very happy that my efforts are very appreciated by all of you! I hope you all continue enjoying this story as much as I enjoy writing it!

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 7**

Severus lowered his face to Hermione's, gently kissing her. For a moment, caught off guard by the sudden gesture, her entire body stiffened. The Potions Master delicately grasped her upper arms, pulling her body into him, snaking his hands around her back and holding her.

Hermione's body relaxed as Severus' tongue parted her lips, caressing hers softly. She reached her arms around him, tangling her fingers in his hair, returning the kiss hungrily. Severus thrust his body against hers, pushing her against the door, his leg between her thighs, forcing a gasp to escape from Hermione's lips.

His hands began exploring her body through her clothing as their tongues met. Quiet noises were coming from Hermione's throat as Severus' hand crawled into her shirt and over the bare flesh of her stomach. It lingered just below the cup of her bra, the whispering sensation of his fingertips against her skin tantalizing. As if instinctually, her hips began rocking against his leg.

"Hermione…" he whispered softly, breaking the kiss and hungrily burying his face in her neck, biting and kissing and sucking softly the tender skin, leaving a trail of bruises in his wake. Tossing her head back, Hermione exposed the soft flesh to him, inviting him to ravage her further. A soft moan escaped her as his fingers crept into her bra, teasing her nipple into hardness.

In a flash he had spun her around, his arm snaked around the small of her back and holding her to him tightly. Releasing her breast, he swept his desk clean in one strong movement, throwing parchment and vials and quills to the floor with a crash. Hermione was pressed painfully against the desk as he kissed her again, his tongue exploring her mouth with a new vigor, his free hand supporting him above her, his other hand tangling in her hair.

The Potions Master pushed her legs apart, rocking his hips against her heated core. She could feel a distinct hardness through the fabric of his pajamas, roughly rubbing against her wetness.

"Oh, gods," Hermione whispered as he broke the kiss and addressed the remaining untainted side of her neck. He kissed and sucked at the supple flesh roughly, his hips still rocking against her. Her soft sounds encouraged him, and he licked her jawbone and started sucking on her earlobe, occasionally licking the rim of her ear and plunging his tongue into her ear.

Hermione wrapped her legs around him, pressing his erect length against her. His hand crawled back into her shirt and worked her breast, his mouth still lingering on her ear and occasionally leaving it for the supple skin of her throat. She placed her hands on either side of his face, pulling his lips to hers and kissing him deeply. Hungrily, he returned the gesture, his tongue exploring her mouth as he leaned her back onto his desk, his strong, warm chest pressed against her body.

"I've been thinking about this for so long," she whispered into his ear as he suckled at her neck. With his face, he pushed her hair out of the way, his teeth gently scraping along her delicate skin. With his free hand, he grasped her hip and pulled her closer to him, the heat from her sex pressed against his manhood and causing him to throb almost painfully. Suddenly, Hermione began to work the tie of his pajamas.

Almost as hastily, he pulled his hand from the confines of her shirt and closed it on her trembling hands. She froze.

With his mouth close to her ear, Severus whispered: "Hermione, have you any idea of how terribly inappropriate intimacy between a student and her teacher is?" He intentionally released soft breath onto her moist ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Yes, I do," she replied, her fingers unmoving on his clothes.

"And have you any idea the danger you risk, should the Dark Lord ever discover my association with a Muggleborn?" His voice was a low growl, stirring something deep within Hermione's groin.

"You certainly know how to ruin the mood, _Professor Snape_," Hermione hissed, pushing him off of her, allowing her to sit up. "Honestly, have you no idea who my best friend is? How, since my very first year here at Hogwarts, my life has been endangered due to my associations? And that despite it, I am still friends with Harry Potter?"

"He would not hesitate in launching a personal attack against you, Hermione," Severus continued, seriously, his fingers toying with a tendril of her hair. "You are Muggleborn, and if he were to ever discover my true loyalties – I fear that my involvement with you would not be overlooked. To punish me, he may–"

Hermione pressed two fingers to his lips. "You think far too much, Professor. Ah, ah" – he had gestured to speak, but Hermione interrupted him – "You _over _think, Professor. More than even _I_, and that is saying something." A coy smile danced across Hermione's features as Severus kissed her fingertips.

"Considering the circumstances, Hermione, I feel it would be appropriate if you were to call me 'Severus.'"

"Of course," she said, that same coy smile lingering on her lips. "_Severus_."

"I do believe I enjoy the way it sounds coming from you, Hermione," he kissed her forehead. "I just want to rest assured that you understand–"

"Severus, _shh_. Honestly," she said exasperatedly. "I understand. I understand, and I don't care. I want this."

A small smile crept across Severus' face, an expression Hermione had never seen before; an expression she hoped she would be able to grow accustomed to. Leaning forward, Hermione placed a tender kiss on his mouth. "You have terrible timing, you know."

His lips curled. "It is nearly seven o'clock. In the morning, I might add. Not only did you interrupt a very pleasant dream, I must confess I am not in top form first thing in the morning."

Hermione smiled slyly. "A pleasant dream? Whatever was it about?"

"That is for my own pleasure," he replied, tracing his finger down her cheek.

Hermione stretched to kiss him. "Have it your way, then. I should probably get back to my dormitory, anyway. Breakfast starts in an hour, and I'm hardly presentable!"

Severus nodded slowly. "Indeed. I am still in need of a shower. And yes, Hermione, contrary to popular belief, I _do_ shower regularly."

She couldn't help but giggle as he glared at her, all but menacingly. Quickly, he planted a soft kiss on her mouth and turned on his heel, his dressing gown very much emulating his robes as it billowed. He disappeared through the door into his private rooms, and Hermione smiled.

* * *

><p>Returning to her dormitory, Hermione investigated her newly marked body in her bathroom mirror. Her throat was more bruise than it was pale. It was fortunate that she had read about a clever concealment charm that would hide the marks for quite a few hours, but nonetheless, a turtleneck would be in order!<p>

Pulling her hair back into a tight bun, Hermione tamed it with a quick spell. With a few mumbled words, the bruises on her throat vanished. She pulled a burgundy sweater over her head, neatly arranging the neck so that any sign of her previous intimacy with her professor was hidden away from plain view. The bell rang, announcing the start of breakfast. Hermione was completely famished after her exertion in the potions office, and she hurriedly made her way to the Great Hall.

* * *

><p>Following her classes that day, Hermione promptly reported to the potions dungeon, as her attendance was required by Professor Snape. She had received the usual workload of assignments from her classes, and secretly hoped that the professor would allow her to work on them instead of her project; she was considerably farther ahead of the syllabus for him to allow her some leeway.<p>

As she pushed open the heavy dungeons door, Hermione let her eyes scan the premises. It seemed as though the professor was not there. But then, she noted the storeroom's door was wide open, and light escaped from it. Closing the door behind her, Hermione slowly began towards the supply room.

"Se**–**Professor Snape?" she called, cautious in case there was a student accompanying him. It would not do if a student heard her refer to the Slytherin Head of House by his first name!

"Professor Snape?" Hermione called again, peering through the doorway.

Severus had climbed the stepladder and was sorting through his reagents. "Ah, Hermione," he replied without turning. "You failed to mention my supplies were running low."

Hermione cocked a curious eyebrow, resting a hand on her hip. "Severus, when I last made use of them, I hadn't noticed that anything was missing."

"Curious," he pondered. "It would seem that the majority of the supplies missing are the more rare herbs; alihotsy, yohimbine… They are quite expensive if I were to purchase them from the apothecary…"

"Would we be able to harvest them from the greenhouses?" Hermione asked, moving to Severus' side and taking the vials from him that he handed her.

"Unfortunately, some of these are very difficult to grow, even in such a controlled climate. Others are too dangerous by Ministry law for Pomona to grow in her greenhouses. Many of these are, as I mentioned before… expensive," Snape grumbled. "And while it isn't as though I am terribly bankrupt, I would prefer not having to sacrifice my personal funds to re-supply Hogwarts. Especially considering the quantity of missing ingredients."

Hermione frowned at him. "Then why not use the budget Hogwarts offers the potions curriculum?"

"Where do you think I find the funds to replace so many cauldrons after fools like Longbottom manage to destroy them?"

"Surely you can afford more than just a few extra cauldrons every year?" Hermione pressed.

"Of course. But then there is repair to the damage to the surrounding area, and I already restocked my supplies this semester. Twice," he added promptly. "However, there is a simple solution to this… unfortunate event."

Hermione stared up at him for a moment, her arms full of jars and vials of varying sizes and colors. Severus descended the ladder and stood before her, relieving her of some of her load. She followed him as he swept from the closet, the glass in her arms _tink_-ing as they bumped one another.

"While I normally would not voluntarily subject a student to a potential threat, I do feel that you are mature enough to both decide whether you wish to assist me or not, and to handle yourself accordingly in either decision." He enchanted the jars he was holding and they shrunk, allowing him to slip them into an inner pocket of his robes.

"Yes?" Hermione asked as he took the vials from her and repeated the enchantment.

"We can very easily harvest the majority of these herbs in the Forbidden Forest," Snape said, looking at Hermione evenly. "And as my apprentice, I would request that you assist me."

"Of course," Hermione nodded.

"I need not remind you of the many dangers one may face upon entering the Forbidden Forest. I recall the occasions when you would accompany your foolish friends into its depths," Severus growled, looking at her.

Hermione nodded. "I know, and I don't mind. I would love to help you, Severus."

Severus stared at her for a moment, the eager Potions Mistress-in-making before him. Her curly brown hair had been tied back like so often these days, the usual tendrils hanging about her face prettily. He suddenly had the greatest urge to take her in his arms, and for once, he did not hold back.

Hermione gasped softly as he enveloped her tightly, pressing his mouth against hers. Smiling inwardly, Hermione returned the sweet gesture, her arms around his neck. She couldn't help her disappointment when he released her. His hand cupped her face, his rough thumb stroking her cheek. Placing a small hand on his, her eyes flickered shut, savoring the moment. How was it that something felt so right?

When his hand finally fell away from her face, Hermione straightened up, tucking behind her ear the loose pieces of hair that framed her face. Severus had moved to his office, where within he was gathering his cloak and two pairs of dragon hide gloves.

"Hermione," he asked as she entered his office. "Would you happen to have your cloak?"

"No, but I can go get it if I need to," she turned, but Severus' voice stopped her.

"That will be unnecessary." Grabbing a second cloak, he pushed it into her arms. It felt considerably lighter and upon holding it open in front of her, she realized it was considerably smaller than when it had been hanging off the cloak rack.

Wrapping it around her, Hermione took the gloves Severus offered and tucked them into an inner pocket. The Potions Master pulled out his wand and pointed it at the entrance to his office. Suddenly, he glanced at Hermione.

"Would you be uncomfortable if we used the passage that led from my quarters?"

An opportunity to see Severus' private rooms? Hermione shook her head. She had never seen any of her professors living quarters, and she supposed with good reason; how peculiar would it be that any of her professors invite her into them? It would be terribly inappropriate! But she couldn't help but feel excited to see the Potions Master's rooms.

"Of course not," she said with a soft smile.

"All right, then." He stood in front of her, almost awkwardly for a moment. Vaguely, she recalled the moment just after Ron invited her to his bedroom at the Burrow, and another small smile escaped her. Deep down, under all that coldness, Professor Severus Snape was simply a lost, lonely, little boy seeking some company.

_Or_, Hermione reasoned. _I could be terribly off base and he's just feeling terribly uncomfortable inviting a student to his bedroom. But then again, only this morning…_ the memory of the morning's events caused a stirring in her groin.

Severus' voice drew Hermione's mind back to the present. "Shall we go, then?" He had opened the door that led to his quarters; the hallway was dark, and she assumed, another tunnel through the dungeons comprised of stone. Hermione nodded quickly, and for a moment, Severus seemed to consider something. Then, he held his hand out to her.

As if it were an unfamiliar object, Hermione simply stared at it for a moment. His hand was long and the fingers thin, but just by looking one could tell it was strong. His palm and fingertips were harshly calloused from years of brewing potions and harvesting ingredients and the like. Slowly, she reached her hand out to his, tiny in comparison, delicate and almost childlike.

He enveloped her small hand in his, the corner of his mouth tugging into a half-smile. Hermione returned the gesture, managing a full smile, and followed the Potions Master through the doorway and into the musty hall within.

Their footsteps echoed through the passageway but it didn't take long to reach the entrance to Severus' rooms. Turning the handle, he pushed open the door to reveal an elaborate and beautiful living room. Hermione audibly gasped as her eyes scanned the elegant room.

The walls were not stone; in fact, they were a gorgeous hue of deep red. Along the far wall, a black marble hearth was installed with two extremely comfortable-looking armchairs, decorated in a silvery-black pattern. A matching sofa was opposite them, with a black marble coffee table in between. Along the walls, elaborate metal candelabra softly illuminated the room.

From this room branched another room, and from her place at the entrance, Hermione could vaguely make out a bookshelf. Glancing up at Severus eagerly, he nodded once, releasing her hand, and she fled to his library. The walls were covered with bookshelves that stood to the ceiling, various books, most bound in black or brown leather, completely covering each shelf. She was in heaven.

"Do not dawdle too long, Hermione. We must make haste before the sun sets and the Forbidden Forest is too dangerous." Severus' leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossed against his chest. His expression was almost smug.

"Of course, Severus," Hermione lingered a moment longer, before hesitantly squeezing past him out of his library.

"You can spend as long as you want in there once we return," he offered kindly. "I suspect many of those texts will help you a great deal in your apprenticeship."

"Oh, thank you, Severus!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her arms over his shoulders. "Thank you, so much!"

Severus rested his hands on her hips as he kissed her deeply. Oh, how marvelous it was to finally be able to taste her lips, feel her body against his. Snaking his strong arms around her, he held her close to him, tempted almost to never let her go. It seemed too good to be true.

When she broke the kiss to look in his eyes, he could see his reflection in the amber depths. "Severus," she crooned. "We should go."

He released her, nodding his agreement. "This way." A door leading from his kitchen opened to another musty tunnel, though this one was only stone for a short way until it was completely comprised of mud and tree roots.

Hermione pulled the hood of her cloak up over her hair, protecting it from the chunks of earth shaken loose as they walked. Snape had done the same, his hand enveloping Hermione's again. The walk was considerably longer as they made their way beneath castle grounds, Hermione stumbling over unseen chunks of dirt and rock several times. Finally they emerged through a hole in the ground. When Hermione turned to it, she couldn't see it.

"It's bewitched," Severus growled as she looked around. "Let's begin."

Pulling on the dragon hide gloves, Severus began walking through the forest, Hermione shortly behind him. His tone was that of complete business: "Now, I trust that you can properly identify the alihotsy plant? And do take caution that you don't put your hands anywhere near your face after you have handled the leaves. Also, if you happen to come across it, my supply of lovage leaves is running dangerously low as well. But again, take care that your hands do not contact your face after handling the leaves."

"All right," Hermione nodded. Severus pointed in a direction that Hermione assumed she would be able to find either alihotsy or lovage plants, or possibly both. Climbing over the trunks of trees, Hermione's eyes scanned the ground. After ten minutes of searching, she caught sight of something familiar.

The plant had spread itself over a good-sized patch of ground. There were several plants whose grayish-green leaves coiled into one another, tangling themselves.

"Alihotsy!" Hermione gasped. She bent over, holding the delicate leaves carefully in her gloved hands. Severus did not specify what condition the leaves needed to be in, but these looked very good. She began pulling the leaves off the trunk.

"Very good, Hermione," came a voice from behind. Hermione let out a shrill shriek, clearly startled. Severus had put his hands on her hips to steady her, as her balance had been lost.

Quickly turning around, she seethed. "Have you not learned your lesson from the last time you did that?"

Severus' expression instantly changed from amusement to something much more melancholy as the event came to mind. With horror, Hermione realized what she had said, and began stammering apologies.

"Th-that's not what I meant, Severus. I'm sorry! I just meant – you shouldn't – you can't – you can't just creep up behind me like that, I'm so very skittish!" Pulling off a glove, Hermione reached her hand to Severus' face apologetically, stroking his cheek. "I'm sorry, Severus. I didn't mean anything by it."

Catching her face in his gloved hands, Severus bent to her mouth. She parted her lips and invited his tongue in for exploration, pulling him by his cloak closer to her body. He leaned her against a nearby tree, his leg pressed between hers, pinning her to the spot.

Hermione combed her fingers through his hair as she shook her other hand free of the alihotsy-contaminated glove. Severus' hands had somehow become naked as well, and they found their way into her shirt, onto her stomach. Hermione felt his nails graze the soft flesh there, almost too lightly to be comfortable, but she savored the touch nonetheless.

"Severus," she whispered as he left her mouth and tended to her neck, kissing her softly. The concealment charm had long since worn off and her neck was dark with bruises; he sought to add to her collection. His hand cradled her head as it fell back, exposing her tender throat to him, while his other hand slid further into her shirt and caressed her breast through the thin fabric of her bra.

Her hands fumbled with the clasp of his cloak and she pushed it off his shoulders, where it fell to the ground with a whisper. The sound of the wind bristling in the leaves joined the chorus of sighs that escaped the couple as they passionately kissed, their bodies reacting strongly to the contact.

Severus slowly lowered them to the forest floor, where he mounted Hermione as she lay across his cloak. Her lips caught his in an intense kiss as his hands worked open her blouse, pushing the fabric out of the way and allowing him access to her abdomen.

He abandoned her mouth again and addressed her bare chest, pushing the cups of her bra out of his way. Hermione gasped as he took one nipple into his mouth, his hand working her other.

"Severus, we'll never get any work done this way," she gasped as he began pulling her pants down.

"We've all afternoon," he growled at her as he began to kiss the insides of her thighs. Hermione released another soft moan as his fingers rubbed against her through her underwear, his lips grazing her thighs. "I have more important matters to tend to."

She fisted her hand in his hair, moaning softly in between sentences. "That wasn't how you felt back in your rooms."

"Things change, Miss Granger," he growled, and the irony was not lost on her. Her lips curled into a smile as he kissed a trail up her navel and to her lips.

He plunged his tongue into her mouth again, tangling his long fingers into her hair, pulling loose the tight ponytail. She unbuttoned his tunic and started pulling him free of it, revealing his bare chest to her. His warm skin on hers forced a growl from deep in her throat, her small hands exploring the pale skin eagerly.

Her lips abandoned his mouth, kissing the length of his strong jaw and tenderly bruising the pallid skin of his throat. He tipped his head back, allowing her access to the sensitive flesh there, a soft sigh escaping him. Shakily, her hands lowered to the clasp of his pants, fumbling to open them. She could feel his erection through the fabric, and she released a quiet, airy moan as her hands brushed against it.

Severus slipped out of his trousers, leaving them among the piles of clothing that had been abandoned haphazardly. He returned to her, kissing her deeply, his hands pulling her free of her bra and the blouse that lay beneath her. As he lowered his lips to her exposed breasts, his fingers traced the outer curve while his tongue teased her nipple. His free hand crawled down her stomach, resting at the soft curls between her legs.

"Oh gods, Severus," she moaned as his fingers began to rub her wetness.

He climbed above her, her legs falling open to him. His dark eyes stared deeply into hers, her face pink with lust. The wrinkles in his face seemed exaggerated in his concerned expression, and gently, Hermione brought her hand to the side of his cheek, tracing the curve of his cheek.

"Hermione," Severus began, and his voice contained an uncertainty Hermione had never heard before. "I don't want to hurt you…"

There was a glint of mischievousness in those amber pools of light as Hermione's mouth tugged into a reassuring smile. "Severus, make love to me."

Severus lowered himself to her, slowly and patiently pushing his throbbing member into her. She gasped at the intrusion, clenching her hands tight around clumps of dirt and grass. Severus paused, concern evident in his face as he searched hers for something, anything to tell him to stop. Her hips pushed into him to pull him in further.

Hermione's body had to stretch to accommodate Severus' size, but once he began moving within her, passionately and tantalizingly, all thoughts of pain passed. Only they existed now, his warm, strong body moving above her, within her, through her.


	8. Chapter 8

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.  
>Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling.<p>

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 8**

Severus, lying on his side, held Hermione safely in his strong arms. She was still, her breathing even and slow as if she had fallen asleep, though he knew it not to be true. Many a time when the Order had been preoccupied and he and Hermione had escaped to another room within the confines of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, he had observed her from afar. After so much observing, one began to learn. And Severus Snape learned that when Hermione Granger was far away in thought, her entire body was relaxed, as if deep thought was her body's equivalent to deep sleep.

Beneath them, protecting them from the harsh cold of the forest floor, his cloak lay. Hermione's cloak, which he had enchanted to grow to twice its original size, covered them, fighting to keep out the cool autumn air, a warming charm cast to help. The October wind whispered against their skin, and despite the heating magic, it raised gooseflesh along their skin, forcing their bodies to occasionally shiver. Around them, the leaves rustled as the wind blew, the trees shedding their leaves, raining reds and oranges and yellows throughout the forest.

"Hermione," Severus' mouth was beside her ear, his warm breath sending a different type of shiver through her body.

"Yes, Severus?" she replied lazily, as if she were waking from a nap.

"We should continue harvesting reagents before night falls," he suggested, bringing his hand to her cheek, stroking it softly. "Even if it means we only gather the alihotsy you've found. It would be better than nothing."

"Yes, yes," she stretched, sitting up. The cold air reached her breasts, her exposed nipples tightening. Severus, who fought the urge to touch her, make love to her all over again, did not overlook the small detail. "Now… where is my shirt?" A flirtatious smile played about her lips, almost seductively as she looked at him.

He could see that the future held many a great thing for him, simply from her sly expression. Reaching behind him as he rested on his elbow, he pushed her shirt into her hands, her bra tangled in the sleeves.

After they finished dressing, Severus shrunk his cloak back down to Hermione's size. Gratefully she wrapped it about her, whispering a small warming charm to keep the cold air out. She tied her hair back as Severus pulled on his gloves, bending down to the nearby patch of alihotsy. Shortly, Hermione joined him as they began picking and pulling the leaves and plants from the ground, the wind whipping about them.

Once the patch had been cleared and they had spent an hour or so seeking out other patches of plants, they began the trip back to his private rooms. She still had been unable to find the hole that they had exited from, but Severus needed not a second's time to find it and disappear into it. Hermione closely followed suit, her small hand clasped in the Potions Master's.

"I'm going to need to shower when I get back to my dormitory," Hermione commented offhandedly. "I am so terribly dirty."

Severus' mouth twitched into a small smile. "Why wait till you return to your rooms? I assure you, my lavatory is equipped with a most luxurious bath. And a shower, if that's more to your liking."

"Why, Severus, you certainly are a sneaky man," Hermione replied teasingly. "Are you inviting me to your rooms?"

"Certainly you are aware of my current… part-time employment, Miss Granger?" he replied, his face sneering but humored. "In order to… do what it is that I am required to do, one is required to have a furtive nature about them. It's simply in the job description." Before the entrance to his living quarters, Severus turned to her, grasping both her hands in his. "And, if you do not think it terribly inappropriate… yes, I am."

Hermione smiled at him, stretching to reach his lips. He returned her simple kiss, curling his arms around her. He had no idea that such a simple kiss could result in such an astounding reaction from his body, but as her small frame pressed against his, his body stirred. When she pulled away, Severus held open the door for her. Hermione nodded her thanks to him and entered, drinking in the beauty of the room once more.

She turned to capture the full effect of it, her cloak curling about her. "Severus, I still can't believe how absolutely gorgeous your rooms are. It's not at all what I would have expected!"

"Pray tell what you were expecting, Hermione?" he asked, watching her as she looked about, her eyes finally landing on the entrance to the library once again.

"I expected… I don't know, something a bit more macabre, I suppose," she replied honestly, shrugging off her cloak. "Or at least… considerably more… _black_." The last word was said with a smile. "Considering your… taste in wardrobe."

"I apologize for disappointing you," his tone was harmlessly sarcastic.

Hermione smiled as she abandoned him to search the depth of his library. It was extensive, but predictably contained a majority of books on potions and dark arts. There were a few herbology encyclopedias, along with a very few novels and Muggle literature.

"Shakespeare, Severus?" Hermione plucked a heavy volume off the shelf.

"I can appreciate Muggle literature," he replied, "Shakespeare was magnificent. _Beowulf_ was also an intriguing piece, though the depiction of Grendel and his mother were slightly… exaggerated, I suppose. I do believe that they were ancestors of today's goblins."

"Severus, _Beowulf_ is entirely fictional," Hermione interjected, pulling the epic poem in question from the shelf.

"Now, I could be mistaken as I am not a dragon expert, but I do believe the dragon written about was a Hebridean Black dragon. They are terribly violent and are very possessive and territorial," he replied, fingering the spine of a large book. Pulling it off the shelf, Hermione could see that it was heavy as Severus's hand dropped several inches as he caught it. "Obviously it has evolved over the centuries, but I strongly believe it is not so much a fictional poem as it is an exaggerated retelling of Muggle strength against impeccable odds." For a moment, Severus turned from her to face the bookshelf. As he was speaking, he had realized that she had done the very same thing. The strength she displayed in the last few weeks…

Hermione's raised eyebrows revealed her skepticism, but she said nothing. Instead, she replaced the large volumes back on the shelf and continued perusing the bookcases, her fingers often tracing the spines. She had to admit, she was not surprised that what Shakespeare he did own did not include the sonnets. She smiled to herself.

"And Hermione, you are welcome to use my library at any time; simply ask, and I shall grant you access," he offered, looking at her as she wandered up and down the aisles.

"You've no idea how grateful I am, truly," Hermione replied, stopping in front of him. Momentarily, she seemed to consider something, and then she reached her arms around him and squeezed gently. Severus returned the gesture, hugging her for the umpteenth time that day – it seemed he had hugged her more today than he had hugged anyone in the past twenty-some odd years of his life. And how marvelous a thing it was.

Severus, leaving the confines of his library to address the many containers of alihotsy leaves, started emptying the pockets of his cloak. They managed to collect half a dozen jars of leaves, all of which he intended to prepare in different ways. But, for now the issue could be left as was, and he placed the jars on a table nearby to be addressed at a later time.

Turning, he caught site of that pretty little head sitting in the sofa in his living room. She was looking into the blaze, distant and deep in contemplation. "Would you like something to drink? Tea, perhaps?"

"That would be lovely, thank you," Hermione replied, looking at him. He nodded and disappeared into what she assumed was his kitchen, while she reclined on his comfortable couch.

Moments later he returned with a steaming mug of black tea. Hermione set the cup on the table, looking up at him. He seated himself next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"Who would have thought," Hermione began, her voice distant as if she were thinking aloud, "it would have happened this way?"

"The human spirit has an interesting way of enduring great things," Severus replied casually. "Terrible, but great."

Hermione nodded her agreement. Her tone careful, she looked into his eyes. "Do you think this would have happened if you hadn't…"

Severus did not need her to finish her thought, and as he stared into her kind amber eyes, the corners of his mouth twitched. The lines in his face seemed deeper somehow, as though his remorse for his act aged him incredibly. Slowly, he shook his head. "Hermione… I wish I could say with any certainty that our love was inevitable. But I simply cannot know for certain."

She lowered her gaze to her hands, and as she inspected her fingers she noticed her nails were quite filthy from their rendezvous in the forest, no doubt. As she examined the dirty skin, a thought that had been lingering at the furthest most edges of her brain was suddenly thrust into the forefront of her consciousness. "What about Dumbledore?"

She felt the Potions Master's entire body stiffen at the mention of the headmaster's name. Hermione turned to look at Severus, his face stern and serious, very similar to that of _Professor _Snape. When his dark eyes flickered to her face, they were unreadable, blank – very much like the man she knew in the classroom.

"I don't know, Hermione," he replied, darkly. "I don't know."

* * *

><p>Hermione stirred, her heavy eyelids lifting to an unfamiliar, blurry room. Vaguely, she felt a pang of pain in her neck, and she knew it was because she had laid on it awkwardly for an extended period of time.<p>

Pushing herself up, she realized where she was. Severus Snape reclined against the arm of the sofa; his body twisted in an uncomfortable-looking position to accommodate Hermione's sleeping form.

Hermione searched around her for any notion of what time it was. Touching Severus' face gently, she coaxed him awake. "Severus, we dozed off, it seems."

The Potions Master stirred, slowly coming to consciousness. His eyes focused on Hermione's face, not far from his, her lips curled into a playful smile. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his mouth, and his eyes flickered shut again.

"Severus, I probably should return to my dormitory before it gets too late," Hermione suggested hesitantly. "If I were caught in the halls…"

"I highly doubt that anyone would think anything of it, Head Girl," Snape growled softly. "You are my apprentice. And considering my… severe personality, it would not be unusual if I had required your attendance late into the evening." He paused, considering her. "Nor would it seem odd if you had chosen to continue working late into the evening, given your own… habits."

Hermione swatted at Severus' arm playfully. "If I didn't know better, Professor, I might think you were trying to convince me to stay."

"Would you?" he challenged, standing quickly and nearly knocking Hermione off her feet. He caught her by the arm. "Perhaps I am."

"Perhaps I will take you up on that offer, then," Hermione traced her finger down the professor's clothed chest.

Severus wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. "You are something else, Miss Granger," he growled. "Something else entirely."

Nuzzling her face into his chest, Hermione smiled. "It is almost ironic," she began, slowly. "Not even half a year ago, I was almost petrified of you. And now… I don't think I could possibly feel safer."

He did not respond, instead kissing the top of her head. Her fear of him was entirely deliberate, as it had been with all of his students. It was often he was unnecessarily mean to his students – and granted it was a very effective form of teaching, one which he did not once consider abandoning – when usually they were only seeking his approval. Hermione was no different; she had wanted so desperately for him to approve of her, to praise her, to compliment her work, and the only thing he had ever offered her was some condescending sarcasm that had no other purpose but to discourage her.

And not only had she been able to look past that, he had done worst to her. He had perpetrated a heinous crime against her, and not only had she not reported him, she had managed to forgive him _and _allow him to handle her in the same intimate manner, consensually. Hermione Jean Granger was a paradox. A paradox, he feared, that he was beginning to fall in love with.

Releasing her, Severus traced the contour of her lips with his finger. Hermione's mouth curled into a shy smile and she reached her hand up to the side of his face, stroking the sallow skin, brushing the curtain of black hair out of the way. Her amber eyes glittered beautifully in the soft glow from the burning ashes in the hearth, the occasional flame casting shadows across her face as it jumped from the otherwise extinguished fire.

"I should… I should go, Severus," Hermione said. "I should… I need to finish some of my homework assignments before classes."

He nodded slowly. "I could not forgive myself if your grades began falling because of me."

She smiled again, kissing him. "I knew you would understand."

Stroking her cheek, Severus' lips curled. Hesitantly, she pulled away from his touch as she gathered her things. He pointed her in the direction of the private passageway that would let her navigate the halls best unnoticed, and with a final kiss, she was gone.

Without bothering to change his robes, Severus fell back into his bed. He stared at the dark ceiling, the moon illuminating it softly through the windows.

* * *

><p>"Hermione, where've ya been?"<p>

"Yeah, Hermione – it's past midnight! Don't tell me that ol' git's kept you this late!"

"Harry, Ron," Hermione began, trying her best not to sound irritated. "_Professor_ Snape needed my help harvesting plants this afternoon. His supplies had depleted rather unexpectedly – of course he thought to blame me for not informing him – and so he requested that I assist him in gathering what we could from the forest."

"That old bat sent you to the Forbidden Forest?" Ron spat, his face revolted.

"No, Ronald, he didn't _send _me. He accompanied me," Hermione replied sharply. "Professor Snape isn't _stupid_. He wouldn't send a student, let alone his apprentice, to the Forbidden Forest unsupervised."

"We waited up for you," Harry interjected calmly. "We haven't seen very much of you lately, what with Quidditch and projects and classes. We miss you."

With those words, Hermione was struck with a sudden pang of guilt. She had been neglecting her friends lately; caught up in her project and her homework and… Severus. "I'm sorry, Harry. I miss you too. I have just been so busy. The professors aren't going easy on us, especially not with the upcoming N.E.W.T.s… and while I am considerably ahead of schedule, Professor Snape won't allow me time to work on other assignments while I am supposed to be in his classroom for my project."

"It's all right, Hermione," Harry offered, smiling. "We kind of figured that, after Snape had accepted, we wouldn't be seeing much of you. That's just the way he is."

"And you are," Ron added, slightly bitterly. "This weekend is Hogsmeade weekend though. You _are_ coming, aren't you?"

"Of course!" Hermione exclaimed. "I wouldn't miss the first Hogsmeade weekend of our last year!"

"Not even for your apprenticeship?" Ron asked, skeptically.

"Not even for my apprenticeship," Hermione confirmed. Suddenly, a yawn escaped her, triggering a symphony of yawns from her friends.

"Well, now that we've made that clear," Harry yawned again. "I think we should go to bed. Defense Against the Dark Arts first thing tomorrow morning. Huxley said we would be working on some wicked self-defense hexes!"

"Not that you really need to learn anything more, Harry," Hermione smiled.

"Oi, mate. You could teach the class." Ron was rubbing at his eyes. "Let's go to bed."

"G'night, Hermione," Harry waved to her.

"G'night, boys," Hermione replied, rubbing at her own eyes as she climbed the staircase to her private dormitory.

Crookshanks' golden eyes peered up at his mistress through his squished orange face. Hermione scratched his head before she began to undress. She strode to her bathroom, first pausing in front of the mirror to examine her newly bruised body.

She wondered quietly if it was normal, what she was doing. Less than six hours ago, she had made love to her teacher on the forest floor. No less strange was it that she had made love to the professor who had raped her barely a month previous.

Stepping into the shower, Hermione breathed a heavy sigh. In the early morning hours, while he was kissing her so passionately, Severus made her feel as though she was finally complete, as though there was a missing piece that she had never recovered, and when he closed his mouth upon hers… something changed.

Making love to Severus had been the most wonderful experience she had ever endured; the man knew how to pleasure her immensely, and his touch was just perfect against her body. It was not lost on her the irony of the fact that he had made her feel such terror, such pain, and then was the source of such extravagant pleasure.

Vaguely, she worried that perhaps there was indeed something very wrong with her. How else could she rationalize her feelings towards the very man who had attacked her? It was to him that her virginity was forcefully lost; it was at his hand that she had felt so much pain. How could she forget that? How could her body betray her to crave his touch, his taste, his smell?

Shaking her head, Hermione dismissed those thoughts. That man – the man who had raped her – he was not Severus. Severus handled her cautiously, delicately, his fear of hurting her glaringly clear. He cared for her in a way that she doubted he had ever cared for someone before. He sought to pleasure her completely, to ensure that by the time he had finished, she had enjoyed his body as much as he had hers.

_An evil man would not go to such lengths._ Hermione thought.

The remorse he had felt in the days, the weeks, following her molestation had been sincere. She had never looked into those black eyes and seen such sympathy, such remorse. There was something particular in his dark gaze that Hermione had never seen before, and as he was above her, moving within her, she witnessed it. She did not know what it was, but it was burned into her memory. She wondered if perhaps what she had seen in his eyes was love.

She knew that what she was doing was very peculiar. She knew it would be a thought that plagued her consciousness for many weeks, or even months. But she also knew that when she kissed him, a part of her flourished; when he made love to her, she felt complete. And it was very difficult indeed to dissuade her from returning to his arms at the end of the day.

Stepping out of her shower, Hermione reached for her towel. The thought of Severus influenced her body to react so strongly, and she knew the heat and wetness between her legs had nothing to do with the hot water. Pulling on her nightgown, she sat down on her four-poster bed, stroking Crookshanks' long fur gently.

"Am I mad, Crookshanks?" she said absentmindedly. His bottlebrush tail stroked against her face as the large cat stared up at her, as if considering her question. He purred loudly.

Falling back on her bed, Hermione waved her wand and the lights slowly flickered out. Closing her eyes, sleep slowly came upon her.

Severus stepped out of his shower, wrapping a towel tightly around his waist. As he strode past the mirror, he caught sight of the subtle bruises along his neck, and the corner of his mouth tugged into a small smile.

Many nights, the Potions Master had lain in bed as sleep evaded him. His thoughts would linger on one thing only: Hermione Granger. He could not explain why his body, his mind, was reacting so strongly to her presence. He did not understand why he had lost control and violently raped her. And he could definitely never even begin to fathom why she had forgiven him, and allowed him into her life so intimately, so completely.

The feeling of her body beneath his was like nothing he had ever known. Her warm wetness wrapped tightly around him as he moved within her – he would have lost it from the moment he pressed into her if he had not controlled himself. Something about that woman made his body betray him in a way he never thought would happen, and as he stared into those beautiful brown eyes of hers, his thoughts were not, for once, plagued by Lily Evans.

The scars from his past seemed to heal with her, as though her mere presence was enough to close the bleeding wounds. And to lean into her touch, to taste her lips – it filled the aching absence that had been his heart since the night Lily was murdered so callously. Severus knew that what he was beginning was dangerous indeed, and while he knew to protect her he should have never kissed her… he did not regret it for a moment.

She had been right when she said her associations had always put her in harm's way. While Severus suspected that the day Voldemort learned he had been betrayed, he would seek him out with a vengeance that paled in comparison to the loathing towards Potter, he knew that Hermione would be safe. For the time being, Severus tried only to bask in the beauty that was her affection, and worry not on the repercussions of his actions.

* * *

><p>Professor Huxley had so kindly sprung upon his class a pop quiz of sorts. Hermione, of course, proved yet again her brilliance in the topic, though unsurprisingly Harry exceeded even her performance. Huxley had required the students perform a series of defensive spells (mostly the basics for Harry, Ron, and Hermione). Many of the students that joined Dumbledore's Army had also done quite well, and the professor was very pleased with their performance, indeed!<p>

After class, Hermione, Ron, and Harry returned to the common room. Hermione had arithmancy in half an hour, but Ron and Harry had the rest of the morning free. After lunch, they had Transfiguration, but the boys would spend their free time, no doubt, causing trouble. For a few minutes, the trio chatted about nothing in particular, but it was not long before Hermione had to rush off to class.

She then met up with her friends in the Great Hall for lunch. Harry and Ron had once again been discussing Quidditch and Ginny had included herself in the conversation, talented a player as she was. She and Harry began to argue over something Hermione was unknowledgeable about – not that it mattered, her mind was with Severus. As she glanced up at the High Table, she caught the eye of her lover, who had been discussing something with the teacher beside him. As though he had felt her gaze, he had turned to her, and as their eyes met, her heart began to race. Quickly, she looked away, a smile cast at Harry that she knew Severus would recognize as his.

The bell finally rang, stirring Hermione from her thoughts. The group of them left the Great Hall together, but Ginny had to take her separate way as she had Herbology. The rest of them continued to McGonagall's classroom, where the stern witch was standing at the head, waiting for the class to file in.

The class was mostly uneventful, as McGonagall stood at the front of the class, lecturing the proper method of transfiguring a horse into a carriage. Hermione stifled her bored yawns the best she could – truthfully, the topic was of little value to her, as she had mastered that spell what seemed eons ago.

Following Transfiguration, they had a thirty-minute break before their Herbology class. As they wandered through the halls in the general direction of the greenhouses, their conversation was mostly menial, nothing too serious, but Hermione couldn't help but feel joyous in the presence of her two best friends.

After Herbology, Hermione had told Ron and Harry that she wanted to head towards the dungeons. They nodded their understanding, and Hermione parted ways with them. Though it was a Thursday, she thought perhaps Severus would appreciate her assistance in preparing the remaining alihotsy leaves and perhaps harvesting some more ingredients later.

She knocked softly on the dungeons door. When no answer came, she pushed the heavy door open. Peering around the room, the man was nowhere in sight. She moved to his office door, but it was locked, the surface cold. She knocked again, but there was silence. She thought it quite odd that Severus was nowhere to be found; what seemed even stranger to her was the churning of her stomach, the reason for such unease about his absence unknown to her.


	9. Chapter 9

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.  
>Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling.<p>

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 9**

Snape stared across the long table at a blonde woman, older than he. Her eyes were focused on an object beyond Severus, but he had a feeling she was just trying to avoid his eyes. Her pretty face had an expression as though she had just sniffed something foul, but Severus knew her well enough to recognize just a hint of melancholy in those ice cold eyes.

He had always liked her. He had never understood, though prejudice as she was, why she had married the man that she did. She had been a lovely young woman when he had attended Hogwarts with her, if not a little smug and narcissistic. He knew it was the result of coming from her particular lineage, but still.

The woman stood as her husband entered the room. Severus' dark eyes flickered to him, his blonde, pointed head held up in all his aristocratic glory. His lip curling, Snape narrowed his eyes as the other man nodded curtly. His wife moved soundlessly from the room.

"Lucius," Severus said softly, following him with his eyes.

"Severus," Lucius replied, his face smug. "I do hope Narcissa treated you with conversation? She has been quite quiet these past few months."

Snape grunted in reply. He was still looking at Lucius, his eyes subtly flickering over the elder man's face, trying to read him. Malfoy lowered himself into the chair his wife abandoned, unsheathing his wand from his cane and fingering the snake head gently.

"Why have you called me here, Lucius? You are aware that I am a very busy man," Severus growled.

"Ah, yes. You must be so terribly busy up there at that school," Malfoy drawled, leaning back in the chair. "What with grading and teaching and what-have-you."

"You would be surprised," Snape said, irritated.

"Ah," Malfoy began, straightening. "Severus, you know that I admire you for the duties you've performed for the Dark Lord. One may go so far as to say that you have earned a certain amount of respect, not only from me, but from our fellow Death Eaters."

Severus gripped his wand tightly against his side. Malfoy was adjusting the elaborate sleeves of his dress robes, and apparently did not notice Snape's subtle defensive move. He continued: "And because of that respect, I have called you. You see, my sister's-in-law accusations have finally come to the forefront of our lord's attentions. And while I, myself, have my doubts about the validity of her claims… the same cannot be said about the Dark Lord."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "And why is it you are the one coming to me about this, and not our lord?"

"I would hate for the Dark Lord to summon you one evening, I having left you unawares about the potential threats to your life, Severus," Lucius replied, seemingly genuine; Severus knew otherwise.

The Potions Master leaned against the table, his wand hand ready to draw. "Do you honestly think me so foolish, Lucius?" Severus challenged. "I have known you long enough to know that you are concerned for the well-being of no one other than yourself. I am also aware that you are quite envious of my place in the Dark Lord's ranks and you would go to any lengths to plant ill thoughts in the mind of our lord, if it meant my downfall." His voice became a dangerous whisper. "So, honestly, Lucius – why is it you have brought me here?"

The elder man feigned shock, his expression slowly changing into that of pouting. "You honestly think so low of me, Severus?"

"You honestly are concerned for me?" His black eyes were scanning his face for any inkling of his true intentions, and yet his mind was impenetrable.

"Why, Severus," Lucius drawled. "We have only known each other for nearly three decades. Why would I have any ulterior motives, other than to watch out for my 'kid brother?'"

"Because you are desperate to be as close to the Dark Lord as I am, Malfoy," Severus hissed.

"If you insist, Severus," Lucius shrugged. "But when our lord accuses you of misplaced loyalties – or worse, involvement with a _Mudblood_…" the word rolled off his tongue with a degree of revulsion; it was almost as if he spat it.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Snape snapped. While the latter portion of his statement was more concerning to the Potions Master, he concealed it, instead displaying irritation that any such accusation of misplaced loyalty would be made.

"My son seems to have reason to believe that you are having a liaison of sorts with a certain student of yours," Lucius began. "Your apprentice, I believe?"

"Explain," Snape growled, his dark eyes nearly slits.

Lucius' mouth curled into a satisfied sneer. "My son claims to have seen you in… _compromising_ positions with your apprentice. Granger, I believe her name is? That pain-in-the-ass know-it-all Mudblood girl."

"I am quite aware of the apprentice you are speaking of," Severus snapped. "And any such claims are preposterous."

"Are they, Severus?"

"If you are quite through, Lucius, I have work to return to." Severus stood up abruptly, his dark robes billowing around him.

"Of course, Severus," Lucius bowed his head. "I am glad we had this… little chat."

Grunting, Severus disappeared with a pop.

* * *

><p>Hermione worked silently in the solitude of the dungeons. With a mortar and pestle, she quietly ground some of the alihotsy leaves into a fine powder, bottling the final product and labeling it in a careful script. Then, using the same technique, she bottled up a coarser powder of alihotsy. In a small cauldron not far from her, some of the leaves were boiling to a sticky substance.<p>

With the only sound in the room the quiet scratch of quill against parchment and the occasional gurgle of the cauldron, Hermione was considerably startled when the dungeon door was thrown open and smashed against the wall, shaking the shelves and the jars upon them.

"Oh!" she cried out with a start. Severus swept into the room, his face turned into a terrifying scowl. When he registered her startled sound, quickly he turned to her, his face softening slightly.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?" his eyes scanned the premises, and he realized she had been preparing the reagents they had gathered the day previous.

"I thought perhaps you would have wanted to continue harvesting," Hermione said quickly, nervously. "But you weren't here so I thought I would begin preparing the alihotsy to be used later on. I hope you don't mind! I've been using your notes!"

"Where did you–"

"They were with the vials of leaves on your desk," Hermione replied softly. "I thought perhaps you intended on preparing the reagents yourself, so when I came down and you weren't here…"

"It is all right, Hermione," Severus said quickly. "You were correct in assuming how I was going to spend the rest of my afternoon. Admittedly, some unexpected events came up and I never got around to it… thank you."

Hermione turned her head to the side, examining Severus with her eyes. He seemed distressed.

"Severus, what's wrong?" Closing the gap between them, Hermione raised her hand to his cheek and stroked the sallow skin.

Severus leaned his face into her touch, his eyes closing. It suddenly occurred to Hermione that he really was just a lonely man, longing for some feminine affection. She smiled slightly; he was the first man that had ever truly desired her company. True, Harry and Ron wanted her around, but sometimes she had the aching feeling they really just wanted her to do their homework for them. But Severus... Severus had no other reason other than the true enjoyment of her presence. That thought alone made her feel a great deal happier than she had in awhile.

Opening his eyes to her, Severus replied: "I do not want to concern you with it."

"Severus," Hermione began, her chastising nature inching into her voice. "You cannot involve yourself with me and then turn around and tell me it isn't my business."

"That is not–"

"Oh,_ please_, Severus," Hermione snapped. "Do you think I am so naive? You might as well have told me it was none of my business. You are a miserable man because of the secrets you keep."

Severus scowled. If she wasn't a complete mastermind on the ways of his workings! Rubbing his fingers at his temples, he released a frustrated sigh. "How far have you gotten?"

"Pardon me?" she asked.

"How far have you gotten?" Severus repeated, turning from her and approaching his desk. "With the alihotsy?"

"Oh – I have ground the leaves into two consistencies, and currently I'm boiling another batch of alihotsy down…" she replied, looking over to the cauldron. "It certainly smells quite foul, doesn't it?"

Snape nodded, sitting behind his desk. He focused his eyes on Hermione; her hair was tied back, her hands covered with the standard dragon hide gloves he required for his class. Her small waist was emphasized by the apron she had tied around her body to keep the concoction from splattering onto her clothes. He was so incredibly attracted to her.

"You tried to change the subject, Severus," she said softly, moving to the desk. Placing her small, gloved hands on the surface, she leaned to look into his face. "Something is amiss. Tell me."

If nothing else, Hermione Granger was a determined young woman, and Severus was well aware of that. He studied her face for a quiet moment, staring into her brown eyes. They were soft, yet fierce, and he knew to argue would be futile.

Severus sighed, defeated. "My absence earlier was due to a summons to Malfoy Manor."

Her sharp intake of breath caught Severus' attention, and his eyes flickered from the surface of the desk to her pretty face. "Malfoy" – he stared in her eyes, reassuringly in a way – "summoned me. We discussed some matters, but the most alarming was his mention of my… alleged affair with my apprentice."

Hermione's brown eyes widened, her eyebrows traveling further and further up her forehead every word he spoke. "But… how?"

Severus shook his head. "I do not know, Hermione. He was impenetrable – I could not tell if he was bluffing."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Severus could tell she was rolling over every possibility in her mind. Standing suddenly, Snape said: "I must speak with Professor Dumbledore. You may stay and continue working, or you may return to your dormitory. I cannot say for sure how long I will be."

She simply nodded, and he swept from the dungeons.

Severus' pace was brisk and silent as he stalked towards the entranceway to Dumbledore's staircase. He was very concerned with this recent summons to Malfoy Manor, and as he approached the gargoyle protecting the path, he muttered the password and ascended the stairs.

"Ah, Severus. Come in, come in! Take a seat. Lemon drop?"

Snape held up his hand in polite refusal. Taking a seat in the proffered chair, Severus combed his fingers through his black hair.

Dumbledore waited quietly for the Potions Master to begin. With fingers steepled together, he looked at the younger wizard over the rim of his half-moon spectacles. Fawkes the phoenix craned his neck and crooned, looking down at Severus from his perch on the high back of Dumbledore's chair.

Looking up at Dumbledore gravely, Severus began: "Earlier this afternoon, I received a summons to Malfoy Manor. It was Lucius Malfoy whom had called – and he did so with a warning."

Dumbledore turned his head to the side slightly, narrowing his light blue eyes. Severus looked into his face, nearly witnessing the ancient wheels turning in the ancient wizard's head. Nodding slowly, Dumbledore invited Snape to continue.

"His intentions seemed true enough, though it is impossible to know for sure; the man's mind was impervious. I have never known Lucius to have such skill in Occlumency, Headmaster," he sighed. "It's unnerving.

"However, he cautioned that the Dark Lord's credence in my true loyalties was wavering. Apparently, he's beginning to consider the validity of Lestrange's accusations. I fear perhaps that the same is true for many of the Dark Lord's followers, as well. Malfoy claims he doubts his sister's-in-law accusations, but… I am uncertain of his honesty."

Dumbledore remained silent, simply considering Severus. The younger wizard held his gaze, uncertain of what to say next. Finally, the elder wizard spoke.

"That is quite unfortunate, Severus," his voice was grave. "That would explain, however, the lack of information. But also, there have not been any unexplained deaths or crimes, neither in the Muggle nor wizarding worlds. It is… curious, to say the least. And the only explanation Malfoy offered was that Lestrange's accusations were finally starting to surface?"

"Yes, Headmaster. I am not sure how willing I am to believe that, however. She has been doubtful of my loyalties from the day he returned to power. The Dark Lord never seemed to consider them then," he replied softly. "I simply cannot be sure."

Dumbledore nodded, seemingly in agreement. "And there was nothing else he spoke of?"

Shaking his head slowly, Severus once again had the suspicion that Dumbledore knew far more than he let on. Obviously, the man was a skilled Legilimens just as the Potions Master was, but Severus was also a master Occlumens, and so it was nearly impossible for anyone to break through that impenetrable wall that was Severus' mind.

"No, sir, nothing of significance," Severus replied. "Repeatedly, I accused him of dishonesty – I, as well as anyone who knows Lucius, am well aware of the fact that he so desires my position within the Dark Lord's ranks. I am – or, was – his closest… accomplice, and he confided in me nearly everything. As you know."

Dumbledore nodded slowly, his twinkling blue eyes boring into Severus'. "It would seem then, our only remaining option is to strengthen the castle's defenses. I will call a meeting following dinner, and we shall alert the staff then. And Severus" – Dumbledore paused, the deep crevices in his face becoming even more so through his seriousness – "be careful."

Following the staff meeting, Severus returned immediately to his private quarters. The gravity of the situation was beginning to pull at him and he needed to lie down, to relax (if it were even possible!). Pulling off his robes, he laid on the comforter of his large bed, the cool fabric whispering against his warm skin.

The staff had not panicked during the meeting, though they were quite reasonably concerned. Hogwarts was the safest place one could reside, and so they were not terribly worried about the issue of Severus' secret agency. They discussed what should be done to protect the students, and if the Ministry should be involved.

His thoughts flickered to Hermione. He wondered where she was, how she was. No doubt she had secluded herself in her dormitory with the pile of homework she had yet to do. No doubt her mind lingered on their conversation previous, and no doubt she wondered how Malfoy had obtained such information – and in such a short amount of time!

Staring at the dark ceiling above him, Severus wondered the same thing. It was only the evening previous that they had made love for the first time; Severus tried to remember if there was anything suspicious about the evening, if there were any rustling leaves or snapping tree limbs that would suggest an audience, but he could recall nothing of the sort.

"_Lumos_," he whispered, and a nearby lantern flickered to life. Reaching towards his nightstand, the Potions Master pulled open a drawer and lifted the photo album out and onto his bed.

The album fell open to the same worn page as always. A young redhead stood with her arm hooked through a young black-haired boy's, both of whom were smiling and waving up at Severus. Letting out a small sigh, Severus stared down at those emerald eyes he was forced to see so often these past seven years.

Turning the page, the folded, yellowed paper of the note she had written him stuck firmly to it. Carefully, Severus pulled the slip off to reveal the photograph beneath. Still in their fifth year, Severus and Lily Evans sat together beneath the tree close to the edge of the lake. They both wore long sleeves; it was springtime, a few weeks before their O.W.L.s. In his lap, Severus held a textbook; Lily sat across from him, cross-legged and laughing. He was smiling, too.

Touching the photograph with his finger, a tear cascaded down his sallow cheek. How he missed her voice so painfully, they musical sound of her laughter. Closing the book, he rubbed roughly at his face and replaced the album in its drawer.

And yet, when Hermione was with him, his pain was relieved…

He laid back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind running rampant.

* * *

><p>"<em>Damn it!" They were the last words Hermione remembered speaking. She had wanted to say more, but could not form any comprehensible thought through her anger. Suddenly, her breath was stolen from her as a powerful force wrapped around her, crushing her.<em>

_Her eyes widened in shock, his mouth pushed roughly on hers. A sharp pain struck the inside of her lip and she vaguely tasted something metallic. Panicked, she began struggling, pushing with her arms against him, thrashing, his strength too much for her. He kept his face against hers, his lips against hers._

_She felt the hard edge of the table press painfully against her body, his weight forcing the edge to bite into the soft flesh of her buttocks. He leaned her back; his body so close to her own, so close she could feel his heart beating erratically in his chest. And yet, nothing could match the speed of her own pulse, so quick she thought the muscle might burst. _

_Suddenly, Hermione brought her knee into his groin, very fast, very hard. An animal sound burst from the throat of her attacker, and he backed away, clutching at his injured manhood. He glared menacingly at her through the curtain of his greasy black hair, catching Hermione's gaze as she stared, her eyes wide with terror and disgust. The moment of freedom seized her, and she turned for the door. _

_Before she reached the threshold, she was caught mid-stride and fell, face first, to the cold stone floor. She caught herself on her arms, the impact causing her to yelp in pain. She heard him mutter something, and throughout the classroom reverberated the slam of the distant classroom door. She heard the quiet click of the lock, the glass rattling on the shelves. She began to cry._

_Somehow, he had turned her over. He was climbing up the length of her until he rested with his elbows just above her shoulders. His black hair hung around their faces, his eyes narrowed evilly and his lips curled into a cruel, cruel smile. Hermione pushed at him with her arms, kicked at him with her legs. He was too strong._

"_No, no! Please!" she cried, struggling. He was on top of her, kissing her, touching her. Her face was soaked with tears and sweat. "Please! Please, don't!"_

_Her mind whirled, unable to understand anything at all. Her instincts told her to continue fighting, eventually she'd wound him enough to escape. She kept kicking, clawing, hitting – even though he was far too strong. Suddenly he wrenched open her blouse, buttons popping and flying this way and that. His eyes glittered maliciously with lust as he exposed her lace lingerie. _

_He tore open her bra, her nipples reacting to the cold air of the room. Hermione felt her face burn red as she tried to cover herself, but his arms thwarted her attempts. She closed her eyes tight against the scene; his teeth were at her neck, hurting her, bruising her. The tears did not cease._

_She felt him rip off her panties, felt his touch, felt his mouth – his mouth! Her soft sounds of pleasure had disarmed him; she aimed a kick at his head, but the heel of her shoe caught his shoulder instead. He stumbled backwards. Scrambling to her knees, Hermione made to flee. She gathered her clothing and ran for the door._

_Her wrist was painfully wrenched and she was thrown to a desk. He clambered above her, binding her limbs with a spell. The tears continued streaming, soaking her face. With eyes clenched shut, Hermione heard the soft whisper of his robes gathering at his feet. He was on top of her again, kissing her again, violently. She tasted blood again, but it hardly registered._

_Then, for a moment, he stopped. She looked at him, her eyes wet and wide and petrified, staring in his face. It almost seemed as though he were considering releasing her. His normally pale face was flushed with lust. _

_Moments passed. She felt him return to her core, dip his tongue inside her. The pleasure was extreme, but it didn't last long. He ascended her again, and stared her in the eyes. His face wrenched with malice, she felt a strong burst of pain, and she let out a scream–_

Hermione's eyes opened wide. Her face was soaked with tears and her body shivered with a cold sweat. Pulling the covers over herself, she sat up in bed, frantically looking about her room.

Crookshanks sat in the chair by the hearth, his bottlebrush tail swinging nonchalantly in the air, his golden eyes staring at her. She released a soft sigh, wiping her face with her blanket and falling back into the pillow. Her entire body was trembling violently, the pain coursing through her as though it had actually happened. For a moment, she stared at the canopy of her four-poster bed, her face blank, her eyes dry.

And then, the tears began to flow.

* * *

><p>With his hands folded atop the cool wood, Severus sat patiently behind his desk. The morning had dawned so quickly, and he was in a fouler-than-usual mood. His first two classes passed without event, though the students were not spared his malice. His third class of the day was by far the most competent group of students he lectured; it was his seventh year advanced potions class, and it was the class Hermione belonged to.<p>

Though he would never openly display it, Severus was looking forward to seeing Hermione again. He knew it foolish but he had missed her in the few hours they had been separated. She would be the first to enter as always – if there was anything he could rely on Hermione Granger for, it was routine. Every school day was the same for her; she would arrive in every class earlier than the other students, her books open and her quill inked.

Drumming his fingers against the desk, Snape waited as the castle echoed with the stampede of footsteps. Any moment now, his students would file in, a hushed silence falling upon them as they entered his dungeons.

Above him, a heavy drumming shook the classroom as students navigated the halls. It would be moments before anyone reached his classroom door, and he continued sitting, waiting.

The first student to arrive was a timid Ravenclaw boy. Snape's black eyes followed him as he quietly approached his usual table, his shoulders hunched under the professor's cold glare. Another student entered, and another, and another – and there was no sign of Hermione.

Concern rose in him, but he did not show it. The students filed in and there was only one empty seat: the front row, second from the right. Hermione's seat. To ask her fellow Gryffindors (though few there were) would be a preposterous idea – it would only raise suspicions if what Malfoy had suggested were true – if light was being shed upon the developing relationship between he and his apprentice. Perhaps he could catch Potter and Weasley in the halls after class.

His fathomless eyes lingered on her empty seat for a moment as the final student entered and took her seat. They stared up at him in silent, frightened intimidation. Even as a group of seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds, he still intimidated them and it was one of the few things he was appreciative of.

Standing abruptly, Snape slammed his hands down onto his desk. Class would have to start, with or without Hermione Granger.


	10. Chapter 10

**Rating**: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling.

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie

**Chapter 10**

The soft bells announcing the end of breakfast sounded distant as Hermione lay in the safety of her four-poster bed. Her eyes were sore and red; she had spent a good portion of the morning crying, for reasons half unbeknownst to her. She simply could not comprehend why a nightmare such as the night's previous would have impacted her so. Her relationship with Severus was blossoming and it was beautiful, and she had recovered from his attack – or so she thought.

Staring at the second hand ticking its way round the clock, Hermione released a soft sigh. Her entire body was sore, reminiscent of that awful night. It was as if the nightmare weren't a nightmare, and it had been reality. Her muscles were sore, her core burning as if she had been torn in two.

Crookshanks had leapt to her comfort moments after she awoke, and he remained curled up next to her face. Occasionally she nuzzled her face into his warm, soft fur, feeling his body as he purred, his bottlebrush tail swiping her face gently.

Staring up at the canopy of her bed, Hermione felt a tear squeeze its way free onto the softness of her cheek. Why had she dreamt so? That night seemed so long ago in the past. Why, she hadn't even felt any such despair for what seemed like months! None of it made much sense to her, at all.

The ticking clock slowly came to her attention, and she became aware that she was, once again, willingly skipping class. And for the same reasons! She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms, frustrated.

"It was just a dream, right?" Hermione asked the sleeping creature beside her. "And dreams – they've no true significance. Right? This is foolish!" She threw the covers off her, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and disrupting the cat beside her. He glared up at her through golden eyes, repositioning himself on her bed and falling back asleep. "Dreams only have significance to the fools who believe Divination is a true discipline."

It may be inappropriate to disrupt her potions class late, but she would make sure to attend the rest of her classes for the day. There was no valid reason to miss a whole day of classes – maybe just her morning classes, but surely not those in the afternoon.

She made for her bathroom, intending on basking in a hot shower. But even as much as she tried to persuade herself otherwise, she still felt filthy when thinking of Snape.

* * *

><p>His seventh year advanced potions class ended, and without any sign from Hermione. As Severus sat back in his chair, he grew agitated. The nerve of that girl, skipping his class! She had better have a damn good reason.<p>

"Or what?" Severus mused. "Assign her detention?" the thought eased a small, uncharacteristic chuckle from him.

He sat forward in his chair, resting his head in his hands. The girl was doing crazy things to him, very similar to how he had felt during his childhood. The fact that a seventh year student could make him feel as if he was a teenager again was pathetic and laughable.

Fleetingly, he wondered if she realized the power she now had over him. Dropping his hands to his desk, Severus stared at the hard calluses and deep lines of his palms. She fit so perfectly there in his arms, filling him with a sense of completeness that he had never experienced before. Even when Lily had still spoken with him, and even when her voice, her conversation, was all he needed to make it through a day – even then, he did not feel so content, so complete.

Why had she been absent from his class? He was furious that she would be so bold as to do such a thing, but he was also quite anxious because he had no idea why she would. Had he done something wrong?

The rest of his classes were uneventful, as though the students were practicing good behavior to avoid his waspish tongue. There was no destruction of any of the school's property, and none of the supplies were wasted – except for a few sorry excuses for potions that a few incompetent first years brewed.

* * *

><p>Hermione collapsed onto her four-poster bed. Crookshanks had vacated her room at some point during the day, and the room was unbearably silent. As Hermione watched the second hand tick around the clock, she breathed a heavy sigh.<p>

She knew it was wrong to have skipped her morning classes. She had not gone to lunch, and though her classes passed by agonizingly slow in the afternoon, she wished they had never ended. She dreaded having to report to the dungeons that evening, having to see Severus. As much as she reminded herself that a dream was just a dream, it didn't matter – her body still ached, her nausea rising whenever she thought of it.

Reclining on her bed, she hugged her pillow to her chest. The quiet ticking of the clock rang in her ears, and as her eyes flickered to the face – five minutes until four o'clock. Her eyes slowly closed, and she breathed in deep.

Severus would be furious if she skipped their appointment. When they agreed to continue the apprenticeship, he had strictly stated that her attendance was required. She knew she had to appear, but as she thought of having to be in the same room with him… her stomach turned.

But why? Severus was a wonderful man; he made her feel things she had never known were even possible. To be with him – it was as though there was a piece of her missing, and he was that final piece. When he was inside of her, he completed her. He was gentle, he was kind, he was loving… she knew there was no reason to be so apprehensive.

Her gaze moved to the clock once more. Four o'clock. She tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat. Maybe if she could avoid talking to him, it wouldn't be so awful. Maybe if he would just leave her be, she would be able to focus on her work. She just needed time to process it all, time away from the man who caused such tumultuous emotions. Slowly, Hermione rose, swinging her legs over the side of her bed.

Her stomach began churning violently as she packed her bag.

* * *

><p>Four o'clock ticked by and Severus saw no sign of Hermione. Frustrated, he threw his head back. It was unlike Hermione to be late. Drumming his spidery fingers against the surface of his desk, Severus' eyes flickered between the door and the clock. Five after four. Ten after four. Where was she? Should he be concerned for her well-being? Surely, if she had gone missing, Potter and Weasley would have as well, and a meeting would have been called to address the issue.<p>

Surely, if there was something wrong, he would have already been informed.

Why, then, was she not arriving? He pulled his hands back through his hair. Had he done something to offend her? He mulled over their past few encounters in his mind, searching for anything that could have been deemed inappropriate. Hermione was not a petty woman, and she would not let a small nuisance pester her for too long.

He simply did not understand. Should he search for her? He did not know. It shouldn't raise too much suspicion he would think; it was one of their scheduled days and she was absent. Professor Snape would be annoyed with such audacity, yes?

It was not lost on him that he hadn't the slightest inkling of how to behave appropriately in such a situation. What on Earth was that woman doing to him?

Suddenly his fist slammed down onto the desk with a loud bang. His anger was getting the best of him. How dare she miss their appointment! She had no right, even if she was upset with him. He was still her professor, and she should respect him as such!

Slowly the door creaked open and Severus' eyes shot to it. Hermione's face peered around it, timidly, before she entered quietly.

"Sorry I'm late," she offered.

"I assume you have an excuse?" he growled.

She seemingly ignored him as she moved soundlessly across the dungeons into his private lab. Her behavior ignited his temper, now knowing her absence was not due to personal injury. He almost exploded into a tantrum as he stood from his desk, knocking his chair over.

Hermione noticed the commotion and turned quickly, her eyes wide. Severus looked very angry as he approached her, his long form sweeping across the stone floor. Timidly, Hermione backed away, pressing herself against the wall.

Severus stopped mere inches from her form, towering over her, his face twisted menacingly. His long nostrils were flared, his fathomless eyes unreadable.

"What the hell is your problem?" he hissed, his face barely inches from Hermione's.

Hermione's expression, once panicked and frightened, transformed into a look of equal anger. "Excuse me?"

"You were absent from class this morning and you come late to work, without injury or excuse. So I ask again, what the hell is your problem?" He was seconds away from grabbing her by the wrists and shaking her, he was so angry.

Her face was twisted into a scowl, but her mind was whirling in her panic. Why was he bearing down on her like this? Why was he so angry? She didn't understand, and without rational forethought, she immediately spat the words that came to mind. "What the hell is _my_ problem? What the hell is _your_ problem? I think I have a very good reason to have a problem with you!" her eyes were wet, but she shed no tears. "You raped me!" She took a tremulous step forward, her brow furrowed beneath her bangs.

Taken aback, Severus took a step away from her for a moment. He had no idea where this was coming from, but his reaction to it surprised him more than her behavior: he had very little patience to tolerate it, and that patience was rapidly waning. "May I remind you, I will never keep you from reporting me if you so please! Hermione, if that is the trump card you are going to use in every hand, then _please_, allow me to escort you to Dumbledore's office. I will not deny that what I have done to you was a despicable, terrible thing, and I will _never _discredit you for what you have done for me." There was a cold fury in his voice, a tone which he could not help. As he was speaking, he nearly immediately regretted the words. What right did she have to bring that up now, after so much had transpired between them? "But when you requested to continue your apprenticeship, I told you I would still require your attendance as scheduled, and _on time_. You have no right to disrespect me in such a way as your professor!"

As he spoke, she knew he was right. She knew he had every reason to be irritated with her; he _was_ still her professor, and to behave with such insolence was inappropriate. Professor Snape would have been furious, too – and she had known that from the moment she had decided not to attend his class.

"I'm… I'm sorry," she whispered, suddenly ashamed. Tears began streaming down her face as she fell painfully to her knees. She held her face in her hands, her shoulders wracking with sobs.

As Severus stared at her, he would not have been able to intelligibly explain the swarm of emotions he was feeling in that instant. How was she able to inspire such conflicting, passionate emotions in him? Severus had dealt more with teary-eyed students this year than any of his previous, and he still hadn't the slightest clue as to handle the situation appropriately.

Lowering himself slowly, he delicately enveloped the small girl in his arms. She leaned her body into him, craving his warmth and support, burying her face into his robes. Her small hands grasped at his robes, tugging him closer to her. As he rocked her back and forth in his arms, the silence was only disturbed by her soft sobs.

As her hands clawed at his robes, Severus felt an intense wave of relief wash over him. He hadn't realized it, in his fury, but when she had confessed to him why she had been absent, he feared he might have lost her. He knew she would always have the scar of his attack, and to ignore that would be an absolute insult to her strength, her character – but he _had_ hoped it was something she could heal from. Had he truly done so much damage, that even weeks – or months, or years – of intimate, passionate, gentle, affectionate love-making would not heal her?

While he was lost in his thoughts, he had not noticed the sudden silence that overcame the room. He felt a nausea rising in him as he embraced her, the mere thought of having destroyed the woman too heart wrenching to bear. She looked up at him, her eyes red and swollen from crying, but the warmth remained. Staring into her loving gaze, Severus nearly forgot his anxieties.

"Severus, I don't know what to do," she sniffled. "I thought I was okay, I thought we were okay, but… I had a dream last night, and it was… it was of… that night."

Stroking her mass of brown hair, Severus hugged her to him once again. At a loss for what to say, he remained quiet, and listened to her soft sniffles. He had hoped that he would never have to see her like this again, especially when he was to blame for her tears – but here she was, reduced to a small child scared out of her wits, and he had no idea what to say to calm her.

He ached to whisper three small words in her ear, to confess to her how he truly felt for her, but he doubted it would make anything better in that moment.

Hermione turned away from him; her eyes clenched shut to cease the tears. Severus, entirely bewildered and at a loss of what to do, let her go and she moved silently into the laboratory and closed the door behind her.

Standing slowly, the Potions Master stared at the heavy wooden door that separated him from his lover. He didn't understand; she was fine yesterday! Was this entirely because of a nightmare? Combing his fingers through his hair, Severus swept to the laboratory door. Quietly he eased it open and Hermione came into view, hunched over a cauldron.

"Hermione," he said softly.

She jumped, startled. Turning around, her face was red, her eyes glossy. "You scared me, Severus."

Moving towards her, Severus touched her face with his fingertips. She leaned into the touch, her eyes flickering shut. His relief that she did not shy away from his touch was overwhelming, almost suffocating. Stroking her soft cheek with his thumb, Severus sat down in a chair adjacent to Hermione's workspace.

"Contrary to public opinion, I am not the callous git that I am rumored to be," he began, slowly, an edge to his voice that he hoped she'd identify as humor. "I am very capable of listening, if one so wishes to speak."

Hermione's eyes, glittering and wet, focused on his face. He stared at her, urging her to feel his sincerity. She opened her mouth, and then closed it. Opened, closed. It seemed to Severus that perhaps she couldn't find the words to say to him, but he would wait patiently until she did.

Finally, they came. "Severus," she began softly. Her voice was steady, but her eyes were still wet. "I had thought that I had moved on. I had convinced myself that I had done the right thing – that we're doing the right thing. I thought I was okay. I didn't see you as _that_ man anymore. _That_ man was cruel, vindictive, sarcastic, mean. But I've come to see you as a different person now, Severus. The person I see you as now, that person is a kind, caring, loving, compassionate man. And I know hearing yourself described with those adjectives must be astonishing! Had anyone else heard me use those words to describe you – why, I'd be sent straight to St. Mungo's!"

A small smile crept across both of their faces. Severus was relieved that Hermione still had a little humor remaining. She had let out a small laugh, too; a laugh that sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. She sat down across from him.

"I thought I was all right, Severus. I thought I was okay. But last night, last night I had a terrible, terrible dream. It brought back all the emotions of that night, all of the pain. It was awful, Severus. It terrified me. I didn't understand. I still don't understand," she pulled her hands through her hair. "I just don't understand. I couldn't bear to face you, not yet. I skipped your class because I was afraid to see you, and it took a lot of effort to force myself to be here now. I don't understand – it was only a dream, and yet it felt so real…"

Severus' lips curled into a slight smile. "Hermione," he said softly, touching her knee. "Hermione, you expect far too much from yourself. You expect yourself to recover so easily from such a traumatic event. I am eternally in your debt for not reporting it, but I stand by my word when I say I will not stop you from doing so.

"You… you made a very brave decision. You forgave me. Even more, you allowed me into your world. Hermione, you expect too much of yourself and such a thing would drive anybody mad, but you – I owe you my life. You have been made victim of a most terrible crime, and not only are you able to overcome it, you… you allowed that same man to show you what it – making love – is supposed to be."

He lowered his eyes, his dark gaze falling to his hands. He wished so badly to tell her exactly how he felt, that he had, in fact, fallen in love with her – but he feared it would push her away. He did not want to lose her. More than anything, Severus feared having to endure that ache again. She was doing crazy things to him indeed.

Hermione smiled, wiping her eyes of tears. She threw her arms around Severus' neck, hugging him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close, burrowing his face into her mass of wild hair, drinking in her scent. She fit so perfectly into his embrace; how wonderful it felt to have her in his arms. He never wanted to let her go.

She pulled back, her eyes meeting his. Softly, she pressed her lips to his, kissing him gently. He returned the gesture, craving her so badly – but resisting. He did not want to force himself upon her, not again.

But no matter, she pushed her tongue into his mouth and hungrily began exploring it. She was overcome with her lust for him, her body responding to the most innocent of brushes. He pushed her down onto a desk near them; her small hands fumbled with the clasps on his robes as he leaned over her, his groin rubbing against her. She wanted him to complete her in the way only he could. She moaned as she felt his hardness through his clothing, an incentive to get the fabric out of the way. She finally managed to rip open his robes, and they fell to the floor around him.

His teeth grazed the flesh of her neck as he eased her out of her own clothes. Within minutes they were pressed against each other, the heat of their bodies warming the other, flesh to flesh. She was flushed with passion; he was bruising her tender skin. Her hand found his erection and she began stroking it, a rhythmic movement.

With a wave of his hand the laboratory door slammed shut and locked.

* * *

><p>Severus held Hermione's warm, naked form close to him. He had cast a warming charm on the stone floor upon which they lay, and she dozed off with her face nuzzled into his chest. Her breathing was even and quiet; the only other sound in the room his own soft breath.<p>

Sometimes he felt the language he spoke was far too limiting, for he had not the words to describe to himself, let alone anyone else, how wonderful, how beautiful it was to have her in his arms.

They lay silently for what seemed like hours. Hermione finally stirred from her restful state, her eyes flickering open and her lashes tickling Severus' chin. The corner of his mouth tugged as his lips parted in a small smile, his lover's amber eyes meeting his.

"Good evening," Severus crooned, combing his long fingers through her long hair. "Did you sleep well?"

Nodding slowly, Hermione smiled. "Yes, I did, actually. How long?"

"I'm not certain," he replied, kissing her nose.

"We should work a little, I should think," Hermione said softly, pulling her clothes close and starting to rise.

"I'm not sure I agree with you, Hermione," his voice was dark, mischievous. He brought an arm around the front of her and pulled her to the floor again, kissing her neck. He couldn't explain it; he felt as though he had nearly lost her, and he wanted to bask in the beauty that was her love.

"Severus!" Hermione gasped, a laugh escaping her. "Severus, you fiend! You're terrible!"

Severus' warm hand rested at the dip in Hermione's waist, his forehead pressed to hers. He kissed her lips softly, pulling away only for air. "Shall I show you just how terrible I truly am, Miss Granger?"

Hermione pushed him away playfully, but Severus swept to her neck, kissing it hungrily. He moved to her breast, suckling her nipple, Hermione's fingers tangling in his hair. She released a quiet sigh, his hands covering every inch of her, his lips close to follow. When he paused at her navel, she looked to him.

"Severus, what is it?" she asked.

"I know of another, much more comfortable place for us to retire," he suggested, his voice low and his chin rough against her belly. He placed a kiss where his chin had scratched against.

"Please!" Hermione gasped, and Severus stood quickly, wrapping his body in his robe. He pulled Hermione to her feet and she retrieved her robe.

As they passed through his classroom, Severus locked the door with a wave of his wand. They fled to his sleeping quarters, where they collapsed onto his bed and devoured each other with passion.

* * *

><p>Hermione's classes the following day passed dreadfully slow. It seemed, as of late, her days were always very long until she was in the company of her lover, and then there weren't enough hours in the day. When her final class of the day, ended, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She headed immediately to her own dormitory to feed and cuddle Crookshanks for a few moments before heading down to the dungeons.<p>

She was very glad she spoke with Severus the day prior. She knew that her fear of him was unfounded, as he had proven to her he was capable of fierce, intense love – and to forget all of that due to a nightmare – she knew it was nonsensical. Even if he had done something terrible to her, she knew that he was so much more than that. She couldn't believe the way he made her feel; just the thought of it caused a stirring below her belt and a fluttering in her chest.

She knew there were so many stones left unturned, and though Severus had many mysteries shrouded in his past, she did not worry herself of it. He had done some terrible things in his life, she suspected – and yet when he had raped her, he had revealed to her a side of him she never knew existed. He had shown her true compassion, real love. Without speaking the words, she only had to look into his eyes to recognize the warmth there.

Hermione mumbled the password and the Fat Lady granted her access. The common room was already filled with relaxing students, but the Gryffindor Quidditch team was already at the field for practice. Hermione crossed the common room and headed up the stairs towards her private rooms.

Crookshanks greeted her with a loud mew as she pushed open the door. Scratching his head, Hermione pulled him into her arms for a hug. He growled harmlessly until she released him, and then she collected the books she would need for her homework that night.

Throwing her bag over her shoulder, Hermione gave Crookshanks one last stroke before she left her quarters through the door that bypassed the common room, and headed in the direction of the dungeons.

When she reached Severus' classroom door, it was closed. She peered inside; there were still a few students who must have belonged to his last class of the day. They were on their hands and knees, frantically scrubbing the stone floor. The Potions Master stood at his desk, glowering at them; his teeth were clenched, his lips as pale as the rest of him.

She recognized that expression from the many times she and her friends came under fire from the professor. He was chastising the students, his deep, oily voice lashing waspish words of ridicule at them. From what she could see, it looked as though whatever the students were brewing had erupted within the cauldron, sending shrapnel in every direction, and there was a sickly yellow substance on the floor. The stone itself was stained.

Hermione knocked quietly on the door. She wasn't sure if it was entirely appropriate to enter the classroom under such circumstances, but she wanted to work on her project (considering she and Severus had completely neglected to do so the evening previous!). A few seconds ticked away and the door was wrenched open, Severus' face contorted into a rather frightful scowl.

"Good afternoon, Professor Snape," Hermione said quietly. She couldn't help but falter a little under the fury of the man before her. His anger did not appear to abate at her presence, but his ebony eyes glittered in a way they only did for her.

"You may enter, but I must warn you: there are severely incompetent students within this classroom, and I will not guarantee you will leave here tonight unscathed," he hissed, moving out of the way to allow her entrance.

Hermione slowly entered the room. The students had paused in their frantic cleaning to watch the encounter between their terrifying professor and the fantastically brave seventh year. Hermione flinched as the heavy door slammed behind her, and when Snape caught the students staring, he snarled.

"Get back to work, you fools," he stalked behind his desk, his robes billowing around him.

Hermione shot the first years an incredibly sympathetic look. She thought to help them clean their mess, but decided against it. Because magic would have rectified the situation, Severus was obviously punishing them – if she were to help them, he would most likely disapprove. Quickly, she hurried past them and into the laboratory.

About an hour passed as Hermione worked. She had left the door open, and could hear the students scraping at the stone floor. The pieces of cauldron that had scattered throughout the room _clunk_-ed against the floor as they were swept to the center, the subtle scratching of a brush scraping at the floor as a student scrubbed the stone. Finally, she heard Severus' chair screech against the floor as he stood.

"You imbeciles have lost fifty points each to your houses. You will serve detention with Mr. Filch for the next week. If anything happens like this again, you will wish I had you expelled," he hissed. "Get out of my classroom."

The students rushed out of the classroom. She certainly did not approve of the severity of the punishment, but then, she didn't necessarily know precisely what had led to the mess, did she? She knew she had no place to comment on Severus' teaching methods; he was a very effective teacher, and while his methods were tyrannical at times, she knew not to interfere.

She was measuring crushed clover leaves as she heard Severus' footsteps approach the laboratory.

"There are times when I absolutely loathe teaching," Severus growled. Hermione did not turn, but instead remained diligently working on her potion.

She felt the Potions Master snake his arms around her waist, his lips pressing a kiss to her head. She smiled slightly, enjoying the feeling of his body pressed against her backside. She could feel his musculature through his robes, and she resisted the urge to lean into him.

"I'm just about done with this for now, Severus," Hermione whispered. "I have quite a bit of homework I need to finish from today's classes."

"Ah, of course," Severus replied. He planted a kiss on the top of her head, and swept away to his desk.

As he departed, she turned to start capping the bottles of ingredients she had pulled out to use. Gathering them into her arms, she moved across the laboratory to the storage closet, replacing the bottles in their proper locations. She felt his careful eye surveying her as she moved throughout his classroom, and she smiled.

With her workstation cleared, Hermione pulled out her Transfiguration text and set to work.


	11. Chapter 11

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 11**

The sun rose on a beautiful morning. It was finally the weekend of the first trip to Hogsmeade, and Hermione had been awake since seven getting ready. When she finally descended the staircase to the common room, the boys were nowhere to be seen.

"Big surprise," she said to herself, a slight smile crossing her lips. "They've probably overslept as usual."

Like clockwork, the boys came like a pair of elephants down the staircase. Hermione turned quickly to face them: Harry's black hair was a mop atop his head, Ron's freckled face contorted into a sleepy yawn.

"Come on, we're going to be late!" Hermione grabbed the boys' hands and led them from the common room and eventually to the Great Hall.

The hall was a cacophony of voices and shuffling feet. In the distance, the red mane of Ginny Weasley shone brightly in the morning sun and they pushed through the crowd towards her. Hermione kept an eye out the entire time for the familiar black sheet of hair that belonged to her lover, but he was nowhere to be found.

The trip to Hogsmeade seemed quicker than usual as the four of them just chattered nonsensically about nothing in particular. The first stop on the agenda was the Three Broomsticks, where the friends sat at a table near a window.

"How is your apprenticeship going, 'Mione?" the topic finally came about, as Neville Longbottom took a seat beside Ginny at the corner of the table.

"Wonderfully, actually," Hermione replied. "It's kept me quite busy, and Professor Snape seems to be quite pleased with my work so far." Sipping from her butterbeer, she stifled a laugh as she looked to Neville, whose face morphed into an exaggerated gawk.

"You mean Snape actually said something _nice_ to you?" Neville asked, taking a gulp from his mug.

"Yes, actually," Hermione replied, and she willed her face to keep from blushing. If only they knew the things he had spoken to her in recent weeks, they wouldn't believe it was the same man. Sometimes she hardly could believe that it was the Professor Snape she had come to know over the past six years!

Eagerly, Neville chattered on about his work with Professor Sprout, while Harry and Ron interjected with their own happy experiences with Professor Huxley. Hermione was very happy to hear that her friends were having just as much fun in their own projects, and she was eager to hear what they were learning about, but that subject was evaded – after all, only Hermione Granger would be excited to talk about school projects on a weekend!

They eagerly discussed everything from schoolwork to Quidditch. While Hermione and Neville had little to contribute on the side of athletics, they branched off into their own quiet discussion. It seemed Neville was quite astonished to hear that Snape was not always "evil," as the awkward Gryffindor put it, and that he had indeed actually complimented Hermione.

"Does he have any other apprentices?" Neville asked, gulping from his butterbeer.

"No, actually," Hermione replied, touching her finger to her chin. "I thought it was a bit odd, too – but I never really asked him about it."

"I don't imagine many students willingly work with him!" Neville replied, a sheepish laugh escaping him. "I know I certainly wouldn't… I bet even if he did get a lot of requests, he'd refuse most of them."

Hermione smiled kindly at Neville, touching his hand comfortingly. "How is Herbology?"

"Fantastic, really!" Neville exclaimed, the excitement very apparent in his voice. "Professor Sprout has even let me teach some of the first years."

"That's great, Neville!" Hermione clapped her hands together. "That's wonderful!"

"What's wonderful, 'Mione?" Ron interjected, wiping his upper lip of foam.

Casting a look at Neville, Hermione hesitated in answering. She knew if Severus had ever granted her such an opportunity, she would very much wish to be the one to share it with her friends! Neville did not miss a beat though, and turned to the second youngest Weasley.

"I've gotten to teach a couple classes of Herbology," Neville replied. "First years. For part of my project."

"Oh, that is great, mate! Are you thinking of coming back to teach after we graduate?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I don't know," Neville shook his head, his cheeks tinged pink.

Hermione smiled, bumping her elbow into Neville's side playfully. It seemed her conversation with Neville inspired the other two boys to finally describe some of their own assignments for their apprenticeships, and Harry had indeed been given the opportunity to teach some first year classes, while Ron had been in the process of developing a countercurse.

"That's fascinating, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "How is it going so far?"

Ron lowered his eyes to the table, shrugging his shoulders almost sheepishly. "Well… it could be going better. Let's just say I'm no Harry Potter! Creating spells is a lot harder than just learning them…"

Hermione smiled sympathetically. "Yes, I imagine!"

It was an hour later when they decided to peruse the shops of Hogsmeade. Hermione had insisted they browse Tomes and Scrolls, to which the boys begrudgingly agreed, but only if she agreed to accompany them to Zonko's. Neville had left them to go to the herbology shoppe.

As they were leisurely touring the small village, their conversation was mostly quiet. She led the way to the bookstore, hurrying to the section on potions, while Harry and Ron were looking through the dark arts (and, of course, defense of) texts. Hermione was quite eager to add to her collection of books but controlled her compulsive desire; what were the odds there was a single book here that would be useful to her that Severus did not already own?

Harry bid Hermione and Ron a quick farewell as Ginny dragged him to Spintwitches to ogle the new broomstick models. Hermione and Ron, left to their own devices, slowly made their way to Zonko's.

"I can't believe you still spend your money here, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione laughed as he held the door open for her.

"I can't believe you don't own all the books at Tomes already, 'Mione," he retorted, a sheepish grin crossing his face.

They browsed the shoppe, Ron commenting about how the inventory paled in comparison to his brothers' business. They ended up leaving the store with empty hands, and walked through the streets with no particular destination in mind.

"Are you really enjoying your work with Snape?" Ron asked her, his voice hesitant. She didn't know if he was just weary of opening the conversation of her schoolwork (as she was very capable of talking one's ear off about learning) or if there was something else that made him apprehensive.

Turning her head towards him, she smiled. "I am. I'm learning a lot from him."

"But he's making you work so much," Ron groaned. "I can't believe you're not completely mental yet."

"He's not as bad as you think, Ron," Hermione said, her voice almost sad. "He's… I think he just gets tired of students who really have little comprehension of the art of potion-making."

"But really," Ron started, looking at the ground as they walked. "He always treated us all so bad. A real git, ya know? I don't get how you could honestly be enjoying yourself."

Hermione frowned, tucking her hands into the pockets of her jeans. She knew his dislike of Severus was warranted, but she found it very difficult to keep from jumping to his defense. "He's not like that when we're alone, Ron."

"He's still a complete git to you every other time though, 'Mione. I don't know if I believe it's any different any other time!"

Even though she knew it was inappropriate, she was beginning to grow quite irritated with Ron's argument. She wanted to just burst out and tell him he hadn't any idea what he was talking about, he didn't know Severus the way she did – but there would be no doubt that the conversation would lead into uncertain territory.

It simply wasn't the right time yet.

"Well, Ron," Hermione had stopped walking, turning towards her best friend and touching his arm. "You don't have to believe me, I suppose. But I am telling you, Professor Snape isn't as bad as you think he is. _Really_."

Ron frowned, rolling on the balls of his feet. "I don't know, Hermione. It's just hard to believe."

He turned, beginning his slow pace once more, and Hermione remained by his side. It suddenly felt as though the air around them was heavy with unspoken conversation.

"It's just…" Ron started, his voice wavering in its strength. "It's just… I still… I still care about you, ya know? It's hard for me to… It's hard to see anyone treat you badly. I already don't like Snape at all, but he makes it worse when he makes fun of you in class."

Hermione smiled, reaching for Ron's hand. Lacing her fingers in his, she pulled him towards her, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Gently, she kissed his cheek. His arms around her waist tightened, pulling her closer to him, and he buried his face in the mass of her hair.

"That means a lot to me, Ron," she whispered to him, pulling away from the hug. "Don't worry though; Professor Snape isn't as critical when it's just us."

Ron eyed her with feigned suspicion. "If I didn't know better, 'Mione, I'd say he had a crush."

Her cheeks pinked and she shook her head, continuing to walk to keep Ron from seeing her flustered expression. "It's not that, Ron. I think my appreciation for potions improves his mood some!"

"Ah, rubbish," Ron laughed, draping his arm across her shoulders. "He'd be bloody mad if he wasn't falling in love with you."

Hermione stifled a small laugh, turning her face to the ground as her cheeks pinked. She didn't know what to make of his comment, but then, she knew she was probably thinking too much on it in the first place.

_If only you knew, Ron!_ She thought to herself, smiling.

Eventually, Ron and Hermione parted ways; Ron wanted to join his sister and best friend in the athletic shop, and with little interest in following him, Hermione wandered aimlessly through the bustling streets of Hogsmeade. The weather was beautiful for so late in autumn, and she had not a complaint in the world.

Turning a corner to an empty alleyway, Hermione came across an old alchemy shop. She looked up at the dusty, battered sign, and was only able to make out a little of its words: " elli n's P tion Pa l ur."

The corners of her mouth tugged into a sly smile. Fleetingly, she thought perhaps she'd run into Severus there. She knew he did most of his shopping in Diagon Alley, but it was possible, was it not? He could very well be in the store and what harm could bumping into her mentor cause? If he was shopping, she could even accompany him under the pretense she was assisting him, as it would come to no surprise to anyone who knew her!

Pushing open the door, a small bell above her head jingled, announcing her entrance. There was no one behind the counter, but there were shelves upon shelves lining the room. It seemed the building was magically enhanced to be larger on the inside than the outside, as the shelves reached at least twenty feet in the air, and the ceiling even higher.

Each footstep threw little clouds of dust into the air as Hermione moved through the aisles, reading the dusty labels before row after row of tiny vials. There was little sound; the distant chattering of witches and wizards outside could be heard and the quiet clunk of Hermione's shoes rattled the jars at the bottoms of the racks. She thought she heard another pair of feet stepping through the shop, but she could not be sure.

Picking up a small vial, Hermione turned it around in her fingers. Within the glass, a purplish-black liquid sloshed about. The label upon the shelf was illegible it was so laden with dirt and grime from years of neglect. The vial itself was gritty to the touch, and she set it back down.

After she came to the end of a rack, she looked up and down the hall between it and the next set of shelves. She heard a pair of male voices, and one sounded very familiar. She felt her heart skip a beat as she turned down the aisle. The voices grew louder as she came closer to their source, and as she peered down a row, there he stood, his black cloak draped over his sharp shoulders.

The clerk of the store looked over Severus' shoulder at her. He, too, turned his head in her direction, and a small gesture of his hand indicated he acknowledged her presence there. He nodded at the clerk and he departed quietly with an arm's full of vials. Severus turned on his heel, approaching her.

"Miss Granger," his oily voice sent a shiver down her spine.

"Hello, Professor," she returned, equally as professional.

"Fancy meeting you here," Severus slowly approached her. "This shoppe is not often visited, let alone by a student."

"I assumed such, considering its neglected state," Hermione replied, nodding to the dusty floor.

"What brings you to this end of Hogsmeade?" Severus asked, standing beside her. The front counter could be seen from where they stood, but the clerk was nowhere in sight.

"I was with Harry and Ron, but they went to Spintwitches. I ended up here by sheer chance." Hermione looked up at him, but he still didn't look her in the face. "Are you… shopping?"

"Obviously," he answered, crassly. "Just purchasing the ingredients that we could not find in the forest. It saves us the time of preparing them as well, as they come in any state I so choose."

"Is there anything I could help with?" she asked.

"Professor Snape," the clerk called, returning to the counter with the vials. "Your order."

Severus swept away from Hermione. Examining the jars, he grumbled to the man: "Put these on the Hogwarts bill." The clerk nodded, turning towards the register. "I'm through here," Severus said as he turned to Hermione, peering down his hooked nose at her. "I was going to stop in the Hog's Head for a drink."

Hermione nodded slowly, seemingly pondering. She took a small step towards him and asked, "May I join you?"

He nodded, turning from her. Hermione followed him as he swept through the store, throwing dust up in his wake, irritating Hermione's senses and causing her to sneeze on several occasions before they departed with a large paper bag full of clinking vials.

They spoke little as they approached the Hog's Head. When Severus held open the door, he nodded to the bartender and followed Hermione to a table. Unsurprisingly, the place was virtually empty, a shady figure here and there, but each kept to themselves.

They were in a darkened corner near the back of the pub, and the bartender brought Severus a golden liquid and Hermione a butterbeer. They sat opposite each other at the table, their heads tipped towards the table to talk quietly.

"For future reference, Miss Granger, I would appreciate it if you would not make a habit of socializing outside of my classroom," his voice was a low grumble as he spoke to her, but she knew he was only maintaining their public façade.

"Of course, Professor," she replied, equally as quietly and just as professionally. "I had a question, though."

"Go on."

"I was wondering…" Hermione began, looking at the foam head of her drink. "Will I ever get an opportunity to teach some of your classes?"

"That is an audacious suggestion, Miss Granger," his lip curled.

"Well, both Harry and Neville have—"

"Ah, yes," Severus crooned, eyeing her. His black eyes were glittering in the candlelight of the pub, and Hermione resisted the urge to reach across the table and kiss him deeply. "When you have proven you are competent enough to guide my class through a lesson, perhaps I will extend the same opportunity that Professors Huxley and Sprout have."

"But Se—"

"Do not argue with me, Miss Granger, or you will find that I am not so pleasant to work with," his voice was icy, but Hermione knew, however convincing his charade was, it was just that. It was no wonder he was such a skilled agent! As she looked at him, she recognized the subtle tug of his mouth that was a concealed smile.

"I understand," she said, sitting back in her seat. She sipped from her butterbeer, eyeing him over the lip. The flame from the candle on their table flickered awkward shadows across his face, but as he watched her, there was something in his eye that she knew was meant only for her.

"Why don't you have any other apprentices?" she asked softly, turning her head to the side.

His lips curled into a small smirk, and he leaned back in his chair. "As you can imagine, Miss Granger, I am not a very popular teacher among the students."

"But you're a fantastic Potions Master," Hermione replied, her voice rushed.

"That being so, every year I've had one or two students request such an arrangement," he growled. "You should not be surprised that, while my restrictions regarding eligibility for my N.E.W.T. level courses are indeed limiting, those for an apprenticeship are even more demanding. Very few students are ever eligible."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Severus leaned into the table. "I do not appreciate wasting my time, Miss Granger," he growled. "And if a student has not performed exceptionally well in my classes, their request for an apprenticeship is dismissed without consideration."

Hermione couldn't help the smile that began to cross her face, her chest swelling with pride. She knew Severus was commending her, though he was doing so quite furtively – and she appreciated his kind words.

After a few moments of silence, Hermione rose from the table, placing a few coins beside her drink. "I should be going."

Anxious not to be seen with him for too long, she waved farewell to Severus, and abandoned her lover in the pub. As she walked through Hogsmeade, she kept her eye out for Harry and Ron, but the boys were nowhere to be found. Without company, she began the long walk back to Hogwarts.

A breeze swept the ground around her ankles, and Hermione felt a brief chill as the air touched her skin. The town was still very noisy with students milling about everywhere, but the further away she ventured, the heavier the silence grew. The rustling of the leaves and the crunch of the gravel beneath her shoes was the only sound until she arrived at the front doors of Hogwarts.

They opened as if she whispered some command, though she never said a word. Lifting her eyes, she peered through her bangs at the hall ahead of her. It was empty; most of the students and faculty were wandering the premises of Hogsmeade. Only the third years and younger were still at the school, but they were probably locked away in their common rooms.

Hermione began to head down the general direction of the dungeons. While she had no need to tend to her projects, she did want to record some notes for the report due at the end of the semester. Moving through the corridors quickly, Hermione's heels clicked against the floor and the sound echoed against the walls.

As Hermione turned a corner, she nearly collided with someone. She stopped, startled by her company, her eyes only coming to his chest. She took a step back with a frantic "excuse me!" but as she looked up, she scowled.

"Malfoy," she said sharply. "Why aren't you at Hogsmeade?"

"Why is it any of your business?" he replied. "How is Snape these days?"

The question was so direct and forthright, Hermione nearly fell over in shock. Collecting herself, she looked up at Malfoy, her eyes narrowed. "As far as I know, he's fine."

"Is he, now?" Malfoy sneered, closing the gap between them.

As if in tune, Hermione took a step back to keep her distance from Malfoy. "I figured you of all people would know, seeing as you're constantly sniveling under his feet," she snapped, fisting her wand in her pocket.

Malfoy again closed the gap between Hermione's body and his own, and by doing so forced her to back into the wall. He pinned her there with his hands against the wall, and leaning in to her, he breathed: "I saw the two of you in the Dark Forest. You seemed quite cozy there, your legs spread in the air like the filth you are."

Hermione felt her face flush violently as she stared levelly into his cold gray eyes. By his expression, he was very pleased with himself, his lip curling in a malicious smirk.

"I don't suppose Dumbledore knows how nice and close you've gotten with his dear Potions Master. If he did, I bet Snape would be out on his ass in Hogsmeade." Malfoy leaned in closer to Hermione's face, so close she could feel his breath as he spoke.

"You are insane, Malfoy. I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione growled, pushing against him. Her heart was beginning to race as he closed the distance between them, her panic aroused by the familiarity of the situation.

He backed away from her for only a moment before he pinned her against the wall once more, his hands pressed against the cold stone. He leaned in to her, his mouth beside her ear.

His voice was a soft whisper, so quiet even she barely heard him. "I hear you like a forceful fuck, Mudblood."

Hermione brandished her wand, holding it between their bodies. Her voice was low as she said to him, calmly: "Malfoy, you had best leave me be, or else you'll wish you had never run into me."

The Slytherin backed away from her, sneering. "What are you going to do?"

Scowling, Hermione lowered her wand. She turned from Malfoy and began to walk away from him. She knew she shouldn't use magic against her classmates, even when it was warranted – and what was worse, she knew, was that if she used magic against a Slytherin student, it would place Severus in a very awkward position, and she didn't want to force that upon him.

He grabbed hold of her wrist, wrenching her around to face him. Suddenly, she felt suffocated by panic and without thinking, she held her wand to his face and cried: "_Petrificus totalus_!"

Malfoy's arms snapped to his side, his body planked and stiff as a board. He crashed, face first, to the ground. Hermione turned on her heel and began a quick pace to the dungeons. For a brief moment, she had thought Malfoy was actually going to – but no, that was ludicrous. He may be a loathsome cockroach, but that did not mean he would stoop so low as to…

Rubbing roughly at her eyes, she was overcome with dread. Even as a relatively harmless curse (and she was grateful it was the first to enter her mind; in those brief seconds between his grabbing her and her cursing him, she had considered something a great deal more violent), she still brandished magic against a classmate, and Severus would be furious. Breathing in deeply, she tried to gather her composure before entering the classroom.

She pushed open the door to Severus' dungeons and looked about cautiously. "Professor?"

Her voice echoed through the empty classroom and Hermione took a quiet step inside the door. Letting the dungeon door close, she moved towards his office door, hoping he was inside. Leaning against the door, it opened slowly, and she stepped inside.

The office was empty, though because the wards were not set, she suspected he could not be far. She lowered herself into the uncomfortable chair in the corner, her hands resting in her lap, nervously picking at her nails. She couldn't fathom why Malfoy had confronted her like that, but the thought made her ill at ease. What did he really know?

When Severus entered his office, he was not expecting to find Hermione. He had returned to Hogwarts shortly after his drink with his lover, and after returning to his classroom he thought to check on the younger students who had not gone to Hogsmeade. He was surprised when he returned to his office to find it occupied.

"Hermione?" he said softly, closing the door behind him. There was something disconcerting about her demeanor.

Lifting her face to stare at him, she said softly, "Severus. I'm sorry."

He lowered himself to his knee beside her, his eyebrows furrowed in his concern. Touching her hand, he did not miss the subtle trembling of her entire body. He rested his hand against her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and waiting for her to continue.

"I cursed Malfoy – Draco," she said finally, staring into his ebony eyes. "I think he knows, Severus. I think he knows about _everything_. I ran into him after I left Hogsmeade," her voice started to falter as she spoke, and she took a deep breath. "He told me he saw us in the forest. And… he said… he said he heard I liked a 'forceful fuck.'"

Her hands were shaking, and as Severus looked at her, he was overcome with a mixture of anger and confusion. He suddenly knew how Lucius had learned of their relationship, but he couldn't understand what had brought Draco into the forest that evening in the first place.

"I started to panic, Severus. He wouldn't stop, he wouldn't leave me alone. I'm sorry," she said, lowering her eyes to her lap. "I'm sorry, I know it puts you in a really bad place," she whispered. "I wouldn't have if he hadn't…"

He cupped her face tenderly. She looked up at him, her eyes wet, and he knew that whatever he had done to her, he had deserved whatever she retaliated with. He was overcome with a sense of anger as he imagined Malfoy laying a hand on her, but he willed it away.

"My concern is not that you cursed one of my students, Hermione," Severus said, his voice even. "What interests me is the course of events. I hardly believe this is at all coincidental." He stood from Hermione to pace before her. His hands were folded behind his back, his strides long, intimidating. "It seems as though, for some reason, the Malfoys have a peaked interest in our relationship. How they have any grounds for suspicion is beyond me. What brought Draco into the forest that afternoon?"

Severus paused to look at her. She watched him closely, reading him – she knew he was still sorting out the possibilities in his mind, though he did not seem to have reached a conclusion as of yet.

Severus sighed. "I have an aching suspicion that it does not bode well for either of us."

He lowered himself into his chair, his shoulders hunched, elbows resting on his desk, drumming his fingers against the wood. They sat in silence for a long while, Hermione watching him as his mind whirred. She knew neither the conclusions he was drawing, nor what their implications.

After some time, Hermione shifted her body in her chair, the old rickety chair groaning under her weight. The dinner bells sounded, and Severus looked at Hermione, but she appeared to lack any interest in leaving.

"Don't you think that your friends will wonder where you are for dinner?" he asked her quietly.

She shook her head. "They've known me for so long now that it wouldn't surprise either of them if I forsook eating for work. I highly doubt they'd question it at all."

Severus nodded slowly. "May I offer you a small meal in my quarters, then, Hermione?"

Hermione looked at Severus, a small smile slowly crossing her features. "Even now?"

"Why on Earth should I allow that arrogant family to interrupt my activities? It would be, after all, granting them exactly what they want," Severus replied, standing slowly from his chair.

Hermione stood as well, nodding. "I think I should like a meal with you, Severus."


	12. Chapter 12

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

Author's Note: Last night, I attended the midnight premiere of Deathly Hallows Pt. 2. Obviously, no spoilers here, but oh, my gosh. I am filled with a melancholy sort of joy, because it was wonderful, but it was the end. It was heart wrenching and warming all at once, but it's really hard to accept the fact that their story – the trio's story, Severus' story, Neville's story – all of them, it's over.

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 12**

It is true that when they retired to his quarters, little consumption of food had ever actually taken place. When that door quietly closed behind them, Severus' hands ravaged Hermione's body ravenously, and they moved towards his bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing in their wake.

They succumbed to sleep somewhere long after sunset, Hermione enveloped in Severus' strong arms, their legs a tangled mess beneath the sheets. As sunrise approached, Hermione had woken peacefully, feeling well-rested for the first time since the beginning of her seventh year. Her hand gently stroked Severus' sallow cheek, tracing the contour of his cheekbone, following the grooves of faint wrinkles along the edges of his mouth.

The Potions Master stirred, slowly coming to consciousness. His eyes focused on Hermione's face, not far from his, her lips curled into a playful smile. "I was thinking, Severus… I do believe I will take you up on that shower offer."

"Will you, Miss Granger?" Severus replied, his voice heavy with sleep.

Hermione stood from him, her lips curling seductively. Severus did not miss the subtle invitation, and quickly he rose from the bed. He was following close behind her as she made her way into the bathroom.

Severus' fingers brushed the back of Hermione's neck, and the Head Girl turned quickly. Pulling her into his arms, Severus pressed his lips against hers. After a deep kiss, Hermione abandoned his mouth and began suckling the skin on his chest. Severus sighed, her warm lips bruising his pallid skin. Her mouth traveled lower, pausing beneath his navel, her knees resting on the cool tile of the bathroom floor.

She placed a small hand around his hardening member, the organ pulsing beneath her touch. She could feel the engorged veins along the shaft, the ridges beneath the tight skin, and as he grew more erect, the foreskin retracting slowly to reveal the sensitive head. She placed soft kisses along his length, starting at the base and moving towards the tip.

"Hermione," Severus growled, touching her head gently. "If you… if you don't feel comfortable…"

"Severus," she replied softly. "It's all right."

He gasped as her hot mouth surrounded him.

They made love again before they bathed, and once more whilst basking in the hot water showering them. It wasn't long before they found themselves yet again tangled in the sheets of Severus' bed, neither bothering to dress. Curling close to him, Hermione's head rested against Severus' pale chest, his heart beat slow and rhythmic within, lulling Hermione to the brim of consciousness.

"Severus," she whispered.

"Yes, Hermione?" Severus replied softly, his fingers combing though her hair.

A moment passed in complete silence. Straining to look into her face, Severus realized that his lover had fallen asleep, curled up as she was around him. He continued pulling his long fingers delicately through her mass of hair, listening to her even breathing.

To think, it wasn't terribly long ago that she had been the annoyingly persistent student whom he had decided to take on as an apprentice. Now, here she was, in his bed, naked, wrapped around him. Letting his eyes close, Severus breathed a small sigh.

He was amazed that, despite all of the things he had done to her in the past, she could still manage to care for him as deeply as she did. He almost couldn't grasp the fact that she was there with him. Severus had thought – no, he was convinced – that his capability to love anyone else had died when Lily had…

Somehow, the young woman curled beside him had the capacity to forgive even the cruelest of crimes, if only one was sincere enough. Silently, he scoffed; that, at least, seemed to be a trait that Hermione possessed that did not seem to grace Lily.

_How curious. _ The wizard thought. The lazy Sunday morning drifting by slowly, as though it, too, had not a care in the world at that moment. Allowing his eyes to flicker closed, Severus drifted into a peaceful rest.

When they woken once more from their blissful rest, Hermione had retreated to Severus' library where she spent most of the afternoon. He simply watched her as she gathered several books from his collection, setting them on a table beside the chair in which he sat. As she placed the books there, he offered commentary on their value towards her research.

"Severus, you have no idea how much this means to me," she told him as she flipped through the pages of a rather large encyclopedia.

"I trust that you will treat them as though they were your own," Severus growled. "These will serve you invaluably towards your project."

Hermione nodded her agreement, a huge smile plastered across her face. She was so grateful for his offering. She had always suspected he desired his students to succeed if only they displayed the desire to learn, and this had only proved her suspicion to be true.

Their Sunday was spent in quiet seclusion from the rest of the castle, Hermione buried in the potions texts he had offered her. Severus took to his office to finish the task of essays that had accumulated on his desk. Time was lost to them, and for a brief moment Hermione's thoughts lingered on her friends. Surely they'd wonder where she was, but she highly doubted they would go searching – nothing would bring them willingly to the dungeons!

* * *

><p>"Oh, no!"<p>

Severus' eyes flickered open. The sun shown in through the curtains he had once again forgot to close, nearly blinding him. He felt Hermione's weight lift from the bed and shuffle about the room.

"Oh, no! We've slept too long, I've slept too long! It's going to be so terribly obvious!"

Rubbing at his eyes, Severus pushed himself up onto his elbows. Hermione was half dressed; her blouse was buttoned halfway, exposing her bra; her jeans were crooked, but pulled over her hips.

"Oh, Severus, we've overslept!"

Looking out the window, Severus guessed it was probably about seven o' eyes flickered to the panicking girl before him, and he let a smile creep across his face. "Hermione, relax. Classes don't start for at least another hour. That's plenty of time."

"Severus, you don't understand!" Hermione hissed at him. "If I'm seen leaving the dungeons so early in the morning—"

"No one will question you, because you are Head Girl and my apprentice. I highly doubt anyone would be skeptical of Hermione Granger overworking herself again."

Hermione paused, breathing deeply to ward off the oncoming panic attack. Looking up at Severus, she shook her head. "But overworking myself through the entire _night_? On a _Sunday_?"

"No one will interrogate you, Hermione. You are Head Girl, and that is reason enough to leave you well enough alone."

Hermione frowned, returning to buttoning her blouse. "I should go."

"Yes, you very well should. I'll see you in class." Severus walked to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. His lips grazed the top of her head as she hugged him back, and then pulled away.

The door shut quietly behind her. Severus sat down in a comfortable chair by his hearth, pulling his fingers through his hair. How was it that she could reduce him to a silly little teenager again merely with her presence?

He did not know, and yet it was a foolishness he did not want to ever end. The problem that the Malfoys posed was pressing, and as he was left alone in silence, his mind began whirring with the possibilities.

* * *

><p>"Open your textbooks to page two hundred sixty-five," Snape commanded, standing at the front of his class. The students obeyed quietly, black eyes surveying them closely, scrutinizingly. "Today, we shall brew a blood-replenishing potion, which for most of you worthless, moronic wizards… is something that will, no doubt, prove quite useful.<p>

"I trust you have already read the chapter. These are methods that we have utilized countless times before. If you are incapable of reading instructions, then you may as well leave now.

"What are you waiting for? Get to it."

There was a loud shuffle as the students began gathering supplies and moving to the workbenches. Snape had proceeded to treat Hermione no differently than prior to their relationship; anything else would have been suspicious, and they both realized it. She seemed unmoved by it; she had been going about the class as always, raising her hand and looking defeated when he called on someone else.

As the class wore on, Snape stalked through the classroom, his robes billowing about him as he peered into the cauldrons of his students. It was true, as a N.E.W.T. level class, his students were capable. Many of the concoctions simmering in the cauldrons were decent, if not acceptable. Hermione's, of course, was perfect, and he examined it as he would have any other student, and passed by without a comment after finding nothing to correct.

Hermione watched her lover move away from her, faking her disappointment the best she could. When he had approached her to investigate her project, she recognized the twinkle in his eye he only possessed when he was very pleased with something, and she tried not to let her pride swell at his approval.

The Potions Master slowly moved down the row of Slytherin students, peering into each of their cauldrons and casting an approving look in their directions. As he came upon Malfoy's cauldron, he paused to look at the young man, and Malfoy met his steady gaze. There was a look in his grey eyes that Severus recognized – it was a look his father wore frequently; a smug, condescending look that was worn when he was in the presence of those he felt unworthy.

Severus had grown increasingly wary of the entire Malfoy family over the past few years and it seemed his tolerance for their antics only waned further when they threatened Hermione. However, Severus was also well aware of the fact that, were he to show any change in behavior towards any of his Slytherin students, it may set off a wave of suspicion he would much rather avoid. That and he did not want to give anyone in the Malfoy family the satisfaction of knowing they were indeed beginning to bother him.

"Have you forgotten something, Malfoy?" Severus said silkily.

"I don't know, have I?" Malfoy snapped.

"It would appear you have neglected to include that dish of boiled kale," Snape sneered, pointing at Malfoy's table. And with that, the Potions Master stalked to his desk.

Standing at the head of his class, surveying the students with his eyes, Severus noted Hermione's calm poise as she brewed her potion. It was quite unfortunate that Malfoy too was in his class, and Severus couldn't help but want to threaten his life if he ever touched his beloved Hermione ever again. However, finding any area with which he could ridicule the boy would prove satisfactory enough, though his mockery would have to be very subtle, and much less severe than that of his non-Slytherin students.

Malfoy knew better than to try anything with Severus in the room, anyway. If what he claimed was true, and he did indeed see he and Hermione in the Forbidden Forest making love, then he would also recognize that any suspicious behavior on his part would be treated swiftly and justly. Severus had always been protective of those he's cared about, and the senior Malfoy surely would have passed this information along to his son when he was informed of Draco's discovery.

The end of class came no sooner than Severus could have hoped. The students filed out quickly after cleaning their cauldrons and presenting the Potions Master with a sample of their work. Many of the samples looked to be satisfactory, while some were a sickly shade of greenish-brown (indicating, most likely, a contaminant). Hermione's was in working order, it appeared, but she did not linger in the classroom a second's longer after handing her vial to him.

Malfoy lingered behind just a moment. Severus had his back turned to the Slytherin, examining the vials his students had handed him. He placed them in a rack he categorized based on potential, among the best sitting on the left side of the rack, and the worst sitting on the right. When he heard the shuffle of fabric he turned quickly to find Malfoy retreating from the room, as though the boy had lost his nerve.

* * *

><p>Lunchtime rapidly approached the students as they moved throughout their morning classes. Hermione was famished after not having ate much at all Sunday, and was actually quite looking forward to mealtime.<p>

It occurred to her, as well, that she should also be excited to see her best friends. Though she continually chastised herself for not spending too much time with them this year, she still did nothing at all to change the fact, and every time she thought of it she felt guilty.

Approaching the Great Hall she felt her stomach tighten in a knot from hunger, and she was quite happy to take a seat next to Ron at Gryffindor Table. Smiling, he cast a gaze at her, leaning into her.

"Aye, Hermione! You disappeared from Hogsmeade. I ran into Spintwitches, and when I came out you were gone!" Ron said through a mouthful of food.

"I know, I know. After you went in the shoppe, I bumped into Professor Snape," Hermione replied, picking some food from the plates in front of her. "I ended up helping him with some shopping he needed to do."

Ron shook his head, as though with sympathy for his friend. "Rough time, then."

Jabbing him in the ribs playfully with her elbow, Hermione argued. "Don't be foolish, Ron! I was glad to help him."

As he cast a long-suffering roll of his eyes at Harry, Hermione laughed. Hungrily, she tucked into her meal, and they ate in quiet for some time.

"Are you going to be able to make it to the first Quidditch match, 'Mione? It's Gryffindor against Ravenclaw!" Harry told her. "I've worked out some fairly good strategies—"

"Try bloody brilliant, Harry," Ron interjected, and his sister nodded her head enthusiastically.

"Oh, Harry, I do hope to go," she replied, though her voice was grim. "I can't say for certain though, my apprenticeship—"

"As long as you're not cozying up too much to Snape down there. We still want you cheering us on when it's Gryffindor versus Slytherin!" Ron retorted quickly, his face spreading in a knowing grin.

"Ronald, _really_!" Hermione sighed, exasperatedly.

Harry watched the exchange with a laugh. Hermione couldn't help but giggle herself when she looked at him. How she missed the boys, and how she so desperately wanted to tell them what was going on between herself and Severus. It was so hard to reassure them that he was not treating her poorly, that he was actually quite pleased with her work and admitted such satisfaction, without confessing to them that their relationship had developed into something deeper.

The same question was constantly lingering at the brim of her consciousness, nagging at every opportunity. When she compared the benefits of their knowing to the harm that may accompany it, both arguments seemed fairly well substantiated:

If she confessed to them the truest reasons why she had not spent much time with them as of late, perhaps they would not think her so completely absorbed in her work that she had no time for her friends. They would recognize how happy she truly was, that she truly did care for this man they had come to detest in their seven years of wizarding education, and that he truly cared for her and valued her as both a partner and an apprentice.

But also, if she were to bring to light exactly the mechanism by which her happiness had been obtained – down to the harsh, despicable reality of it – surely they would make haste to the dungeons, with nothing but vindictive intentions of bloodying up Severus. Or worse, they would demand that he be reported as a danger to the student body. Ron, being the more irrational of the two, would insist upon it, certainly (especially considering how protective he was of her). Harry would hesitate for the same reasons Hermione had – Severus was their only key into Voldemort's world.

And Harry, as wise as he was, would realize that were it to surface that Severus had in fact raped a student, Dumbledore would be forced to fire the Potions Master, stripping from him the protection of Hogwarts. Harry would also more readily recognize just how happy she was, and would hesitate to report Severus for that reason, as well…

But what if she didn't mention how he had raped her? What if she had just neglected that fact, and told them their relationship developed naturally?

"Hermione?" Harry's voice freed her from her thoughts. "You were miles away."

"Oh, yeah," Hermione smiled. "I'm sorry. I was thinking." Her eyes lowered to her plate and her friends continued eating, engaging in an excited conversation about Quidditch. Meanwhile, Hermione, as she picked at the food on her plate, looked to the Slytherin table. Malfoy had been watching her.

She scowled at him, and he looked away, though not without his trademark sneer.

* * *

><p>Weeks passed without so much a whisper from the Malfoys, and while this did intrigue Severus (he had mentioned it fleetingly in conversation with Hermione), he did not dwell on the fact. Instead, he and Hermione worked together on various alchemical creations most nights of the week, and the Head Girl found herself retiring more frequently in Severus' quarters than her own. They emerged from the dungeons (separately, of course) for mealtimes and classes only, and Hermione took much of her homework to Severus' quarters as well.<p>

She had also been able to make it to each of Harry's Quidditch matches (she suspected Severus lightened her work load just enough to allow her to finish her assignments in time for a match), and she was growing quite proud of his abilities as Quidditch captain. He had a true skill for leadership – which she had always known to be true – and it reflected in Gryffindor's awesome winning streak. Even when it was the most anticipated match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, his skill as a Quidditch captain led the Gryffindor team to an outstanding victory.

Needless to say, that evening, when Hermione returned to Severus' arms, she did not neglect to remind him of how humiliatingly Slytherin had lost.

"Watch your cheek, girl," he growled, nuzzling his face into her neck.

"Or what, Professor?" she replied, tipping her head back to expose her throat to him.

Her challenge was answered with his body overpowering hers. He turned her onto her back, his elbows on either side of her head as he kissed her deeply. Her soft hands stroked his exposed stomach, her fingers brushing against the hair that lead from his navel to his manhood. That night, their love-making was rough, their excitement from the match seeping into their lust for each other.

With only a few days remaining before Christmas break, Hermione was busily bustling around the dungeons, adding the final preparations to a potion she'd been brewing that would need to simmer for an entire day before she could do anything more with it. Severus had been observing her from his desk, taking a much-needed break from grading fourth-year exams.

"Hermione, have you arranged plans for this holiday break?" he asked casually while she moved throughout the dungeon.

Hermione paused in her work, looking at him. "I normally go to the Burrow with Ron and Harry. My parents are taking a vacation to Portugal this year."

Severus nodded, considering her over his quill. Hermione tilted her head to the side as he returned to grading the exams, scrawling comments in his small, cramped script.

"Why did you ask, Severus?" Hermione prodded, moving towards his desk.

"Curiosity, mostly. If you hadn't already made plans, I was going to make a suggestion." Severus replied casually, looking at her again. "Unless you are not obligated to the Burrow. In which case…"

"It isn't so much an obligation as a tradition, really," Hermione said, pulling her dragonhide gloves off and placing them on a nearby table. She tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear as she stood before Severus' desk. "We've just done it for so long. I wouldn't know to do anything else."

"Would you be interested if I proposed an alternative to your tradition? Although I would hate to impede further on your friendship," Severus said, returning his attention, once more, to his task.

"I would consider alternatives, yes," Hermione smiled; she knew precisely where this was going, despite how furtive Severus was trying to be.

"What if I were to extend to you an invitation to spend the holidays with me?" Severus offered.

"And what should such an invitation involve?" Hermione replied coyly, her lips curling into a sly grin.

"Whatever it is you'd so please, really," Severus said, dipping his quill into its well to continue criticizing exam answers. "There is a limit to what we could do, but seeing as you are a very reasonable woman I highly doubt we'd reach it."

Hermione took a seat on the corner of his desk. "Severus, I think that would be a wonderful way to spend the holidays."

"I would have to agree with you, Miss Granger," Severus replied, a sly smile creeping across his face.

She leaned down to kiss him gently on the lips before hopping off his desk and retrieving her gloves. She tucked them into her back pocket, and approached the gurgling cauldron.

"Severus, I believe this needs to simmer for a day before I can do anything more to it." She was peering over the edge of the pot, the potion inside illuminating her face softly.

Severus followed her over to the cauldron and peered into it. The liquid inside was a pale yellow color, bubbling occasionally and releasing a rather pungent odor. He nodded. "Yes, Hermione, you are correct in assuming such. In which case, I would like you to take the opportunity to read from chapter forty-seven of the text I've provided you, as I think you will find it a very interesting and informative read."

Hermione clapped her hands together. "Oh! Of course, Severus!" and with that, she hurried over to the desk upon which her belongings were placed and took a seat. She turned to the chapter directed, and began to read.

Severus returned to his task of grading. The pair of them remained in silence for about thirty minutes while Hermione read the chapter from _Moste Potente Potions_, which honored her greatly as it was one of Severus' personal texts from his library.

She knew Severus had his reasons behind everything he required of her, and so she rarely questioned his instructions – though truth be told, she was quite curious as to why he had her read an excerpt on the Drink of Despair. Nevertheless, he was quite correct when he said she would find it both intriguing and educational.

As she finished the chapter, she twirled a loose strand of hair around her finger, considering the information. She looked up at Severus, who was very much involved in grading.

"Severus, could I make a request as to what it is I begin working on after the holidays?" she asked him.

"While I am not one to completely reject requests, I already have a curriculum arranged for you to work with," he replied, his hand still as he looked at her. "You are probably wondering why I had you read about the Drink of Despair."

"Well, quite honestly, it seems like an interesting potion and I would like to try my hand at it," she replied. "It says here that there is no confirmed method of creation, and all information is simply speculation."

"Precisely why I would like you to begin educating yourself regarding it. It is going to be one of the first potions we attempt to brew upon our return to Hogwarts in January," Severus said. "As part of your final project, it will be something you and I work on together. As you've read, there is no confirmed method of brewing it – and in fact, it is thought to be a creation of the Dark Lord." He lowered his gaze to the parchment before him as he spoke. "Your assistance will greatly aid me in my own research. Potioneers across the world have been trying to recreate it."

"So… you want me to help you?" she asked, a small smile creeping across her face.

"And to benefit you, it is included in your apprenticeship projects," Severus replied coolly, leaning back in his chair. "Of course, if we are unable to perfect the draught, it will not count against you." He paused, resting his chin in his hand pensively. "I imagine, if we are successful, our report will be published in journals of all languages."

Hermione nodded emphatically. "I would be honored to help you, Severus."

Closing the textbook, Hermione began to tidy up her workplace. There were still some vials of ingredients left on the desk near her cauldron and she picked them up carefully, the delicate glass _tink_-ing in her arms as she moved to the stores. She placed several of the jars back in their proper place.

"Severus?" she called to him as she noticed an area on the shelves that looked awry. "Severus, can you come take a look at this? It looks as though someone has been into your stores."

She heard the feet of his chair scrape against the stone floor as he stood. It wasn't long before he entered through the doorway and stood beside her.

"Curious," Severus muttered. He climbed the footstool to investigate.

"It wasn't me, Severus, if that's what you're thinking," Hermione said quickly.

"It would be preposterous to assume such, my dear," Severus replied, peering along the shelves. "Especially as this does not seem to be an isolated incident. Have you ever left the stores while I have been absent from the laboratory?"

"Well, yes, of course – but you have always taken care to enable the wards so they activate once I've closed the door after replacing reagents." Hermione crossed her arms, wracking her brain for any incidence where that may have been untrue. "I can't think for the life of me when it hasn't happened that way."

Severus had taken to moving vials on his shelves to their proper location. "Not only are some items missing, some have been misplaced as well. It would seem that our perpetrator is not terribly organized."

"Who in their right mind…" Hermione pondered. "May I help?"

"I have just about finished," Severus said. "Quite curious, indeed."

Severus lowered himself off the step ladder and moved to a lower shelf. "While on the holiday break, we will have to stop by an alchemy shop, as I will need to replace these herbs."

"What's missing, Severus?" Hermione asked quietly, watching him.

"Dried raspberry leaves, ground terrestris root, preserved red clover blossom," his voice trailed off as he peered towards the door of the store room. Suddenly he made a movement towards his office, nearly knocking Hermione over in the process.

"Agh – Severus!" Hermione called. She hurried after him, pausing in the doorway.

"And one of my very few – and valuable – Ashwinder eggs," Severus growled, his brow furrowed into a vicious scowl. "This is becoming rather irritating." His voice was low, his speech slow, as he began to stew in his frustration.

"What could anyone want with those potions ingredients, Severus?" Hermione queried. She knew precisely what the combination of such reagents could create, but it seemed preposterous.

"As my student I would hope you could answer that question yourself, Miss Granger," Severus's oily voice sent a chill down Hermione's spine.

"Fertili Augmenta, of course," Hermione replied quickly, reverting to her studious mindset. "A fertility potion."

"So you should understand why I am going to call a meeting of the Hogwarts staff to inform them of this recent robbery," Severus replied grimly. "The last thing we need during this time of war is an adolescent pregnancy."


	13. Chapter 13

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 13**

Hermione watched Severus leave from the dungeons quickly, and she suspected he intended to speak with Dumbledore. She couldn't help but find herself assuming the usual House-born prejudices – she suspected it would have been one of the more flirtatious Slytherin girls, or a Hufflepuff who was afraid of losing her boyfriend.

She quietly closed the office door behind her and made her way towards the Gryffindor common room. The dungeon halls were empty, and to no surprise to the Head Girl; it was getting late in the evening and the students were probably tucked away in their dormitories or common rooms, finishing homework. It would be the first evening in some days that she would spend in her own quarters, though she of course stopped by every day to ensure Crookshanks had everything he needed, and to cuddle with the cat for a few moments while collecting items for class.

Mumbling the password, Hermione climbed through the portrait hole and appeared within the common room. Some younger students were strewn about the furniture, some sprawled out on the floor, completely involved in schoolwork, probably finishing up some last-minute homework assignments due in the next day or two before holidays. She peered around, searching for her friends.

She recognized the backside of Ginny Weasley, who was positioned provocatively on her boyfriend's lap, and it was quite obvious they were snogging. Hermione smiled to herself as she moved passed them and found Ron, not too far away, chatting noisily with another Gryffindor girl Hermione couldn't recall the name of.

"Oi, Hermione!" Ron smiled, scooting over on the couch to let her sit down. "Gettin' in late?"

"Quite," Hermione replied. "I don't mean to interrupt—"

"Oh, no, it's quite fine, Hermione," replied the girl. "Ron was just helping me with the homework Huxley assigned."

"Oh? Well, I'd definitely hate to get in the way of that!" Hermione replied, standing from the couch. Ron touched her hand and pulled her back down.

"It's fine, 'Mione, really. We're just about done anyway," Ron replied, rolling his eyes. "Just relax a second."

Hermione leaned back on the couch, folding her hands across her belly as she waited for Ron to finish his tutoring. _If you can call it that._ She thought, smirking to herself.

It wasn't another five minutes before Ron was finished, and the girl hopped off to be with her friends. Hermione sat up straight next to the red-headed Keeper.

"Oi, mate!" Ron called to Harry, interrupting his snog-session with Ginny. "Come over here, Hermione's actually here."

Harry and Ginny came over to sit with Hermione and Ron. "It's good to see you, Hermione," Ginny said, hugging her friend gently. "It's like I only ever see you if you're at lunch!"

"Yeah," Hermione agreed. "I've just got a lot of work, you know. But anyway, I wanted to talk to you guys about something." Hermione's voice hushed, and as if on cue, her friends leaned their heads in close to hers.

"When I was putting my materials away today, I noticed that a lot of ingredients were missing from Professor Snape's stores," Hermione whispered. "It's not the first time this has happened, either! I told him, and of course he is infuriated – but you won't believe what ingredients are missing."

"What's missing?" Harry prompted.

"Raspberry leaves, terrestris root, an Ashwinder egg…" Hermione replied. Her friends' blank expressions told her they had no idea the significance of that statement, and she released a disapproving 'tut' before elaborating. "Those are ingredients for _Fertili Augmenta_." This did not seem to enlighten her friends at all, and she sighed, exasperatedly. "A fertility potion!"

Ginny choked. "What? Really? Are you sure? "

"Only as sure as I can be, honestly," Hermione replied. "But it's the only thing that makes sense. Professor Snape went down to Professor Dumbledore's office right before I left to tell him."

"I wonder what the professors are gonna do," Harry said. "Who do you think it is?"

Hermione shook her head. "I have no idea, Harry. Who would want to?"

"I bet it's one of the Slytherin girls," Ron said, his face wrinkled up in disgust. "Maybe it's Pansy."

"What, trying to rope Malfoy in?" Harry chuckled.

Ginny, who was always more involved in the going-ons of Hogwarts, interrupted. "They haven't been together in two years."

"Yeah, but I hear they still get busy," Ron cringed at the thought. "I saw them at the Three Broomsticks last Hogsmeade, and they were pretty cozy."

"That's right," Harry nodded. "I bet it is Pansy, hoping to ring Malfoy in next time they do it."

"I don't know about all of that," Ginny said, thoughtfully. "It's a possibility, of course, but she isn't _that_ irrational."

"Ah, but you haven't known her nearly as long as we have," Harry replied, snaking an arm around his girlfriend's back. "I'm not sure what she _wouldn't_ do to snag Malfoy."

Hermione leaned against the arm of the couch, resting on her elbow. She couldn't help but inspect the girls in the common room, attempting to identify if it could be any of them that pilfered Severus' stores. For the most part, the Gryffindor girls were all very well-behaved, respectful students – she couldn't see any of them perpetrating any such crime. But then, Hermione _was_ rather biased, wasn't she?

"I'm sure the teachers will figure out how to handle the situation," Hermione said aloud.

* * *

><p>She had been right. Just prior to the train's departure, Dumbledore sent a barrage of owls to the parents, with an alarming letter alerting the adults to the situation. Severus quietly lavished the situation as it meant a good deal of students would no doubt be forbidden to leave their homes, and instead would be forced to work on the assignments the teachers issued before break. Perhaps they would be better educated upon their return in January?<p>

"Unlikely," he growled.

He was sitting in his office, awaiting his lover's arrival before they departed for the holidays. No doubt she was coming from the Great Hall, where she would have eaten breakfast with her friends before they departed for the Burrow.

His mind kept turning over the possibility of which student was the thief, pondering too what they could possibly gain from pregnancy. His suspicion eventually rested on Hermione, as shamed as he was to admit such; she was the only student who had full access to his stores, and she was also one of the only students competent enough to brew such a concoction.

The thought had occurred to the rest of the professors as well, and while Severus disregarded their suspicions, he knew he could not do so too convincingly or risk exposure of their secret. McGonagall was quick to Hermione's defense though, as she seemed to believe she knew her all too well, and knew that it was outside Hermione's character to do such a thing.

The thought of Hermione brewing a fertility potion for herself unnerved Severus, but he could not possibly imagine what benefit she would gain from becoming pregnant. He knew it was an irrational suspicion – Hermione was so concerned with her studies that to become pregnant would be devastating. And during such a time of war?

The door to his dungeon office creaked open and Hermione poked her head around the door. She spotted Severus and smiled, pushing the door open and heaving a backpack higher on her shoulder.

Severus stood from his desk, leaning to her to kiss her gently. He took her bag from her, his lips curling just slightly. "I assume these are all your things?"

"They are," Hermione nodded. "Sending out notices to parents – is that all the school is doing to handle the reagent theft?"

"Not entirely," Severus replied. "All students are under suspicion."

"…especially me, because I have complete access to your stores," Hermione sighed. "Severus, you know I didn't do it."

"Of course, I trust you, Hermione. But the other professors cannot be as certain as I, though Professor McGonagall was quite adamant to defend you," he responded, touching her face gently. He leaned down to kiss her. "Let us enjoy our vacation together."

Hermione nodded, and Severus led her to his quarters. He kissed her gently, asking, "Is there anything I can get for you before we leave?"

"No, Severus. I'm just looking forward to the holiday," Hermione smiled. She moved towards his bookshelves. "Is there any possibility we could bring some of your books?"

A knock sounded at the private entrance to Severus' rooms. Turning towards the door, he cast a glance over his shoulder. Hermione turned towards him, perplexed, her hand slowly lowering from the bookshelf to rest at her side.

"Just a moment." Severus turned from her.

Nodding, Hermione turned from him and moved towards his bedroom. She had no idea who would be contacting Severus right before the holiday, but she wanted to remain out of sight until they left, regardless. How inappropriate it would be if she were caught in Severus' private quarters! She understood Muggle culture well enough; it was not polite to venture into someone's bedroom uninvited. She only hoped the same was true for the Wizarding World!

Severus headed towards the door, the intermittent knocking continuing. Pulling open the door, he was very surprised at his guest. Standing in his long wizarding robes and silly pointed hat, Albus Dumbledore looked very tired.

"Headmaster?" Severus questioned, feigning slight surprise the best he could. To give away there was a student in his rooms simply would not do.

"Good morning, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly, his blue eyes lacking the customary twinkle. "I am very sorry to disturb you just before you're about to leave, but it appears you have a moment to spare. May I?" he gestured to enter Severus' rooms.

"Oh, yes, of course, Headmaster," Severus moved out of the way so the old wizard could enter. "It isn't an issue at all. I was just preparing to leave."

"Ah, good, good," Dumbledore nodded, taking a seat near the hearth.

"Would you like some tea, Headmaster?" Severus offered, still standing.

"That would be just lovely, Severus."

Severus turned quickly on his heel. It was fortunate he was able to pass his bedroom inconspicuously, as it was located on the way. Stepping into the bedroom for just a moment after checking to see Dumbledore was preoccupied in his sitting room, Severus touched Hermione's arm.

"It's Dumbledore." Severus said, quietly. "It is unlikely he will need to come in here, but to be safe..." He held his wand to her and whispered something barely audible, and she felt as though there was something cold trickling down her back. "Don't make a noise – he can't see you now."

Hermione nodded, though Severus had already left the room. He had cast a disillusionment charm on her, and though she knew it was not foolproof – there was a good chance that if she were to move at all, Dumbledore would know, were he to enter the room – she knew it was their best option to conceal her presence there.

Severus entered his kitchen to brew some tea. Shortly thereafter, he returned to the living room, where Dumbledore remained, staring into the fire.

Handing the cup to Dumbledore, Severus slowly seated himself in the sofa across from him. For a few minutes, the wizards sat in silence, and Severus momentarily thought perhaps Dumbledore had forgotten he was even there.

"Severus," Dumbledore began suddenly, startling the Potions Master. "Is there something you wish to tell me?"

"Headmaster," the younger man began, patiently. "You know that you would be the first to hear of any developments."

"Ah, yes," replied the Headmaster, staring into the liquid in his cup. "Sometimes I am forced to wonder, especially recently. You have been spending so much time with your apprentice; I wonder sometimes, and perhaps foolishly, if she may have become your confidante."

"Foolish it is, sir," Severus replied softly.

Dumbledore nodded, slowly. "It is comforting to hear that you two maintain the appropriate relationship. Sometimes, and it is not uncommon, men such as yourself begin to feel intrigued by their apprentice, especially if they are as intelligent and capable as yours." Dumbledore looked into Severus' face, and the younger wizard could not help but feel as if he were being indicted. "You _have_ remained nothing but her pedagogue, yes?"

"Have you reason to suspect otherwise, Headmaster?" Severus growled.

"I have been… made aware of some things, Severus," Dumbledore said, his eyes narrowing. "And if what I have been told is true, you know what I must do."

"I haven't any idea what you're talking about," Severus replied, his voice level and cold.

"Severus, I am merely looking out for the best interest of both my students and faculty. I have been tol—"

"Told what, and by whom?" Severus snapped. "If I am being indicted, I would like to know who is providing the evidence and where they are obtaining it from."

"Severus, please," Dumbledore reasoned, calmly. "You are not on trial, but I need you to be completely honest with me. Severus, I must be suspicious. It was not long ago that you were summoned to Malfoy Manor. And now Lucius Malfoy comes to me, claiming his son has reason to suspect you are engaging in an inappropriate relationship with Miss Granger."

Severus narrowed his dark eyes. "Malfoy?" Silently, he cursed himself – why had he not mentioned Lucius' accusations to the headmaster? If he had, this conversation would not even be happening. Dumbledore would have simply disregarded it. There was nothing for it now.

"Yes, Severus. Malfoy," Dumbledore replied.

"I have not the slightest idea where Malfoy would come up with such ludicrous claims, Headmaster. But as I told you… when I spoke with Lucius, he claimed the Dark Lord was becoming suspicious of my true loyalties." Severus' eyes glittered dangerously as he rolled over the possibilities in his mind. "I would not doubt that Malfoy would use any means to become closer to Voldemort… just as his sister-in-law."

Dumbledore considered Severus over the rim of his glasses, his light blue eyes narrowed. The Potions Master suspected that Dumbledore's suspicions prevailed, and while Severus truly abhorred deceiving the Headmaster, he knew it was their only option for the time being. He lowered his gaze. The fact that Hermione was hidden away in his bedroom nearly slipped his mind, but just as she pulled at his heartstrings, she influenced his conscience. And so she lingered.

"Are you certain, Severus?" Dumbledore asked. "You have no idea where Malfoy would come to believe such things?"

"No, Headmaster," Severus replied. "He had brought it to my attention the afternoon I spoke with him, but I did not believe it to be important enough to mention to you."

"Ah," Dumbledore said softly. "You did not believe it was important to mention that you were being accused of engaging in inappropriate behaviors with a student?"

"It seemed preposterous," Severus replied coldly. "I did not wish to concern you with it."

"And if it had come to the attention of the parents? Then, would you have thought it important to mention?" The old wizard's voice was terse, almost angry, as he spoke to Severus.

"I didn't believe Malfoy would have told anyone else, Headmaster," the Potions Master replied. "Clearly, I was mistaken."

"Clearly," Dumbledore replied, studying Severus' face.

"Headmaster," Severus said, quietly. "If you don't mind, I would greatly appreciate your excusal. I do not mean to be rude, but I am anxious to depart."

"Of course, Severus," Dumbledore stood, slowly. "I am sorry to have interrupted you with such petty matters."

Severus waited until Dumbledore closed the door, and he approached the bedroom. If he hadn't known better, he would have never realized he wasn't alone; Hermione was eerily silent. When he released the charm, Hermione looked up from her seated position on the floor.

"Is everything okay?" she stood quickly, touching his face.

"He suspects something," Severus lifted his hands to hers. "Apparently, Lucius Malfoy tipped him off."

"Malfoy? Professor Dumbledore would take Malfoy's word over your own?" Hermione gasped.

"No, I have managed to… dissuade him from the topic, for now. But I still haven't any idea where Malfoy would get any ground for such accusations," Severus stared into Hermione's face, but she knew he did not see her. He was thinking. "I do not know what they are scheming, but this is too unusual to be mere coincidence."

"Do you think the summons to Malfoy Manor had anything to do with this?" Hermione asked, her voice low.

"I do, yes," Severus growled.

A silence fell between them. Hermione slipped past Severus and left the room. Severus followed her, and after a few moments more of silence, he spoke. "We should not let these matters ruin our vacation, my dear."

As they prepared to depart, Severus explained to Hermione that his home was connected to the Floo Network, just as his private quarters in Hogwarts. For convenience of travel, the private living quarters of all the professors were attached to the network.

Standing before the hearth, Hermione nervously said, "Severus Snape Household," scattering the powder and stepping into the green flames. Seconds later, she emerged from the fireplace within Severus' private home. As Hermione gained her footing, she peered around the room. The walls were not unlike Severus' library at the school: they were covered from floor to ceiling with hundreds of books. The room itself had an air of neglect, which she expected – Severus spent most of his time at the school.

"It is not much," Severus said, as he emerged from the fireplace. He waved his hand, and a single candlelit lamp flickered to life, casting eerie shadows throughout the room.

Hermione moved slowly throughout the room, her hands grazing the threadbare furniture. She moved to the bookshelves, tracing the spines of the books with her fingers.

"Was this house your parents'?" Hermione asked, looking at him.

"Yes," Severus replied quietly. Hermione had the distinct impression that he wanted that to end the conversation, and while she was curious to know more, she respected his wishes.

Peering around the dark room, Hermione blushed slightly as she realized that this was precisely what she had imagined Severus' living quarters to look like. She didn't expect him to provide such meticulous maintenance as he obviously did at his living quarters at Hogwarts.

Suddenly, there was a sound of dragging feet in the room. Hermione jumped, startled, and looked in the direction of the noise. A house elf was shuffling into the room to greet his master. The elf bowed so low to the ground his nose nearly brushed the floor. Dust clouds puffed up from the sack the elf was wearing.

"Welcome home, Master," the elf's squeaky voice made Hermione cringe. The elf looked at her, and his eyes grew large. "Grib did not mean to offend Master's friend, Grib is very sorry!"

Hermione felt an intense sympathy for the elf and she kneeled down to shake his hand. "You are absolutely fine, Grib," she extended her hand. "How are you?"

Grib stared at her hand, as though it were a foreign object. Hermione's eyes softened, smiling slightly, encouraging the elf to greet the witch as his equal. Grib looked up at Severus, his eyes large and glossy, confused, as though he didn't know how to handle the courtesy.

"You may shake her hand," Severus growled. Grib stretched out his arm, trembling, and took Hermione's hand in his.

Hermione rose to her feet after Grib shook her hand. Grib began to move backwards towards what Hermione presumed to be the kitchen, but Severus stopped him. "Grib, prepare some tea for Hermione and I."

"Yes, Master Snape, sir," Grib bowed again, and hurried into the kitchen. The _clang_-ing and _tink_-ing of pots and cups could be heard as Grib prepared the kettle on the stove.

"You never said you had a house elf, Severus," Hermione said quietly, looking in the direction of the kitchen. "Is he here by himself the entire time you're at school?"

Severus nodded, looking slightly puzzled as to why that seemed significant to Hermione. "Yes, he spends all of his time keeping to the house."

Hermione frowned disapprovingly. Severus, taking note of her sudden mood, cocked an eyebrow and began, "Is this particularly troubling for you, Hermione?"

"I have no right telling you what to do, Severus," Hermione replied quickly. "Where are my things?"

"Ah, they should be in the master bedroom… this way." He rested his hand upon her shoulder and led her to the master bedroom. "House elves – for the most part, they enjoy the work they're given. They believe it to be the role of their race, in a world that was not designed for them. It provides them food and shelter, in exchange for the small services they can provide."

"Yes, I know," Hermione responded. "It's just… there are so many of them that are horribly mistreated, and they lack almost any basic civil rights. It's inhumane."

"It is certainly true that there is a significant proportion of house elves that are mistreated, and that indeed is most unfortunate," Severus replied. "But there are bigger matters to tend to in the world at present. When the Dark Lord falls, perhaps then we can focus our efforts elsewhere."

As they entered the master bedroom, Hermione peered around. It was not nearly as large as his sleeping quarters in Hogwarts, and barely half as elegant – but she had come to expect that now, seeing the state of the rest of the house. But, nonetheless, there were more bookshelves in this room as well. Stacked to the ceiling, they seemed to be swelling with texts. She couldn't believe his collection of books! This, in addition to his library at school?

"Severus, you have so many books!" Hermione cried. She pulled a volume off the shelf and cracked it open. And suddenly, she realized that the books were not dusty, and in fact, they showed no sign of neglect whatsoever.

"Silly girl, you don't think I leave all of my reading material at Hogwarts while on break, do you?" Severus crooned slyly.

"Tea, Master Snape," Grib walked into the room with a tray in his hands.

Two cups and a kettle were resting on the platter. Grib set it down on the foot of the bed gently, waving his hand to guide the kettle to the cups. He bowed before exiting the room. Hermione picked up one of the cups and sipped slowly, taking a seat on an armchair set between the bookcases.

"Severus, do you celebrate Christmas?" Hermione asked quietly.

Severus did not expect such an inquiry and was surprised by the suddenness of her question. He lowered himself to sit on his bed and thought a moment before answering. His voice was solemn. "I have not celebrated Christmas in some time, Hermione." He paused again, taking a sip from his tea. "I find no purpose in celebrating a holiday when one is alone. This will be the first year in a very long time that I have had company while on break."

Momentarily she felt an intense amount of pity for the Potions Master; she knew precisely his loyalties, and that he risked his life for the greater good of the entire world. And yet, there had been no one in his life to love him the way a man should be loved, especially a man as good as he.

She clenched her eyes shut, willing away the tears. Severus, more than most men, deserved to be loved passionately. He deserved the greatest life had to offer and yet he had none of that. He had the loyalty of few people, and the trust of even fewer. It was no wonder he was always so miserable. If only he was willing to risk vulnerability, she thought he could be happier.

"Severus, why do you close everyone off?" Hermione asked him, wiping at her eyes with her hands. "Why am I the first person you've exposed yourself to?" She paused, her stomach fluttering in unease. "And why did that happen only after you raped me?"

Severus' brow furrowed as he considered her question. She thought momentarily that perhaps she angered him, but she soon realized that her question was indeed very weighted and he wanted to consider it carefully before answering. He stared at the cup in his hands for a moment, and Hermione could tell he was contemplating.

"My role in this world is one of great risk, Hermione. At any moment, I could be summoned by the Dark Lord, and that could be my end," Severus looked at her. "The Dark Lord has no mercy, Hermione. He has no compassion, no empathy. He cares not for his followers, nor their families. He is inhuman and he does not consider the repercussions of his actions on the lives of others, and he murders without second thought. If my true loyalties are exposed, it is very likely that I could be facing an impossible challenge. It is very likely that, if my true loyalties are exposed, I could die."

Hermione's grip around her cup tightened. This subtle gesture did not go unnoticed by Severus. He reached to touch her hand gently, squeezing it gently, reassuringly.

"To allow anyone into my life, to allow anyone to love me – that is an incredibly selfish act on my behalf. I cannot guarantee my time on this Earth. The threat to my life is very real. To allow another person to care for me will, almost certainly, end in that person's suffering. And what is worse, if the Dark Lord ever discovered my associations… I fear that he would attack those I care about before ever coming after me. Killing a man's family is a worse punishment than killing the man himself." His voice was incredibly solemn, and for a moment Hermione thought she recognized the glitter of tears in Severus' ebony eyes, as though his statement rang truer for him than she could ever realize.

Hermione stared into her teacup, her reflection dancing on the surface of the dark liquid. She couldn't help but cry for Severus; he deserved so much, and had so little. She had been so wrong about this man in the past – he was possibly the bravest, most sacrificing man she had ever the honor of knowing, and yet he had nothing to show for it. He was alone. She raised her eyes to stare into his.

"Don't you think you deserve to be loved?" Hermione asked, tears streaking her face. "Don't you think that, after everything you have given this world, you deserve someone who loves you?"

The Potions Master nodded. "I do. I do believe I deserve that," he paused, lowering his gaze to his tea. He thought for a moment, heaving a heavy sigh. "But I also believe it is unfair to accept anyone's love, when I know it may end in sorrow for them."

"Severus, that is the risk you take when you open yourself up to someone. There are certainties in life, and there are uncertainties. It is certain that we will all die one day, but when and how – that is uncertain." Hermione took Severus' hand and kissed it. She held it against her face, feeling the roughness of his calloused palm against her soft cheek. "Haven't you ever loved someone?"

Severus could have laughed. The question was not absurd, and he recognized that. It was a very rational question, considering his disposition on the subject. He knew the joy and the heartache of love all too well. Those beautiful emerald eyes flashed in his memory, and he closed his eyes. "Of course."

"Who was she?"


	14. Chapter 14

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

Author's Note: I felt compelled to once again, thank all of you have taken the time to review this story. I appreciate every word you guys have written, knowing full well that you have no obligation to comment whatsoever – and I thank you for all of your kind words! I hope you all continue enjoying the story as much as I enjoy writing it!

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
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**Chapter 14**

Severus' breath caught in his throat. He was not ready to confess to her that – the only person in the entire world to know was Dumbledore. He sat quietly for a very long time, considering the question. He knew not how to answer it, nor if he even wanted to at all. And through the silence, Hermione waited patiently.

When several minutes passed and Severus didn't answer, Hermione seemed to realize that perhaps he did not want to. She nodded. "I understand, Severus. That is very personal to you."

"Indeed," Severus growled.

Suddenly, he felt rather foolish for feeling as though there was _anything_ too personal to share with Hermione. After all, he was not only involved with her romantically; he violently stole her virginity from her. To feel that there was anything to personal to share with her seemed ludicrous to the man. He felt as though she had a right to know, and ultimately he wanted to tell her everything. But this? It was too soon, his wounds weren't healed. He wasn't ready to open that door to her.

Silence wore on them and Hermione shifted in her seat. She was watching Severus closely, as if she could see the processes in his mind at work. He gestured to say something and she leaned in towards him, listening intently. His mouth closed without saying a word.

It seemed as though an eternity passed before any sound was uttered. Despite Severus' wishes – and he realized he did indeed want to divulge to her who _she_ was – the words would not come. No matter how much he willed them to leave his lips, they seemed caught in his throat. The way Severus felt was foreign to the man; never before did he care what another person thought of him, but_ this_ – this was different.

In all of the past decades of his life, there was only one person to know the truth about the Potions Master. There was only one person who knew why he behaved as he did, why his choices were such. There was only one person who knew _why_ he changed sides, why he became good once more. Would it be too revealing if he told her that he loved Lily Evans, the mother of her best friend?

Would she suddenly realize that the only reason he ever betrayed the Dark Lord was a selfish one, at best? She was a rational, logical woman and perhaps she would dismiss the notion as irrelevant, as it was a decision made so long ago. Why, Hermione would have been two-years-old at the time, and barely so.

She would understand, Severus thought. Hermione Granger would understand better than most. He did not know why he suspected such; he simply knew that she would not judge him for it. Perhaps it was that she had proved to him so much within recent months: that her love was unwaning, it was true, and it would endure no matter what he confessed to her.

Hermione's hand was resting on Severus' knee, conveying her complete support for whatever he needed to say. She squeezed reassuringly whenever he gestured to speak, and waited patiently when it seemed no words would come.

Severus breathed in deep, willing to possess a fraction of the strength Hermione had displayed in the weeks after his assault of her. He raised his eyes to meet hers, and he was overwhelmed by her empathy. She raised her hand to touch his cheek and she smiled encouragingly.

"Lily Potter," Severus whispered. His voice lost its usual strength, as if the mere syllables on his tongue weakened him. He lowered his eyes to his cup.

Hermione's eyes widened as her hand slowly dropped from his face. Her ill-concealed surprise betrayed her intentions, and as she rested her hands in her lap, she simply looked at Severus, trying to read anything from him. He was completely closed to her, his dark eyes blank; he was lost in his thoughts.

_Those piercing emerald eyes glared at Severus, and within his chest, his heart crumpled and broke. His apologies poured out of him like water, and as she leaned against the wall, her arms crossed across her chest, her eyes narrowed._

"_It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years."Her voice was harsh, cold. So unlike the girl he knew. "None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you."_

_Severus was reaching for her hands as if to plead with her, his dark eyes wet and scared. She wrenched out of his reach. A lump formed in his throat, keeping him from saying anything. So badly he wanted to hold her, so badly he craved her forgiveness. He was sick with contrite. _

"_I can't pretend anymore," Lily's voice was calm, but stern. "You've chosen your way. I've chosen mine."_

His hands were shaking almost violently, the tea in his cup sloshing around and spilling onto his robes. Hermione watched as his grip around the cup tightened until his knuckles were paper-white and the veins in his hands bulged violently. She looked up at him, her eyes welling up with tears. Suddenly, the cup cracked and broke, and hot tea spilled all over Severus' lap. Hermione flinched.

"Shit!" he cursed, standing quickly. He pulled his wet robes off his legs, cursing quietly as he wielded his wand and cast a spell that quickly dried that fabric. "_Reparo_," he hissed, and the cup reassembled.

She watched him, her stomach clenched in trepidation. As a drop of blood splashed against the floor below him, Hermione's eyes moved to his hands. He was bleeding. "Severus," she whispered softly, her voice weak. "Your hands."

He looked at her, as though realizing she was still in the room with him. His expression softened, and he turned his hands over to inspect his palms. He hadn't noticed it in his fury, but slivers of ceramic had embedded into his hands. When he repaired the cup, the shards had dislodged from the fleshy, callused pads, but the tiny cuts were still bleeding. Hermione moved to him, taking one of his hands in hers and brandished her wand.

"_Episkey_," Hermione whispered, and the wounds began to heal. She repeated the spell to his other palm and watched as the tiny cuts disappeared.

Sadly, she looked up at Severus, who flexed his hands and lowered them to his sides. "Hermione, what's past is past. There are aspects of my childhood I wish not to discuss – not yet – and that remains one of them. Please press no further."

Hermione nodded, reaching out to touch Severus' cheek. "Of course. I'm sorry I pushed."

He kissed the top of her head, and moved to a window. Drawing the curtains, he allowed some light into the room. Eager to change the topic and distract her from her thoughts, Severus offered a suggestion. "If you would like, we could stroll through the town."

Hermione nodded. "I think I would like that, Severus."

They bundled up in their winter wear to face the harsh temperatures outdoors. Hermione pulled on her knitted hat and scarf, wrapping her winter cloak around her. Severus shrugged into his travelling cloak and slipped into a pair of gloves. Leading Hermione to the front door, he allowed her to pass through first before pulling the door closed.

The snow was falling softly, silently. Hermione tipped her head back and breathed in the winter air. As Severus led her along, she observed her surroundings; many of the houses were rather dilapidated in this area. The street lamps were broken and in the distance she could see a derelict mill of some sort. It felt eerily empty, desolate.

"Severus, does anyone still live in this place?" Hermione asked, looking at him.

He, too, looked around them. Many of the old brick houses had boarded windows and doors, _NO TRESPASSING_ signs plastered to the planks. The roofs of some of the buildings had caved in.

"There remain very few residents," Severus replied. "My father inherited this house years before my birth. My parents were very poor – they could not afford anything more. Staying here… it only seemed the rational thing to do."

Hermione was looking at him as he spoke, his voice dark, sullen. He continued: "This area… it was largely a Muggle area. We hadn't the money to move elsewhere, but even if we had…" He stopped walking, burying his hands into his pockets and staring at a decrepit brick house. "This town was mostly abandoned by the time I was born, and as the economy continued to worsen, fewer and fewer remained behind. There was no hope here, but my parents had no choice but to stay." Severus lowered his gaze to her. "I have no fond memories of this place, Hermione."

Hermione nodded slowly. Again, she felt a stabbing pity for this man. It was no wonder he appeared so cold and calloused. What sort of childhood did he experience? Going off to Hogwarts must have been the most wonderful thing to him, when he was a child of eleven years.

He continued walking, taking her by the hand once more. This place was so incredibly silent; it seemed as if the snow around them even absorbed the sound of their footsteps. She could feel the sorrow in this empty place, as though the town itself pleaded with her to end its suffering.

"Severus, why do you stay here?" she asked softly.

"There is too much uncertainty in my life," he said. "I don't spend enough time here. When the war is over… perhaps then I will move elsewhere."

They continued walking in silence for a ways, coming upon an area of houses that was much less derelict. The street was mostly clear of snow, and the houses lining the street were very tidy, quite obviously meticulously cared for. It was such a complement to the area they left.

"Severus, how did you meet her?" Hermione asked suddenly, her speech rushed as though she was afraid of the question all the while being too curious not to ask. Slowly, she said, "Lily?"

Severus paused in his walking to look down at her. For a moment, he simply studied her, and then finally, he answered: "As a child. We… lived close."

"Can you show me her house?"

Sighing, Severus nodded, though hesitantly so. Doing so would recall so many memories, he knew, and yet he wished to share that with her. Slowly, he led her down the sidewalk that would lead to the former home of the Evans'. Severus did not know if Lily's parents still lived there, or if they were even still alive.

Hermione's eyes kept wandering around her surroundings. As they walked, the passed a playground, the swings of which were weighted down with piles of snow. A slide peeked out of the blankets of snow covering everything. Beyond the playground, another street. As they moved down the sidewalk, finally Severus' pace slowed to a crawl, and his dark eyes lifted from the sidewalk to gaze at the house before them. Smoke was billowing from the chimney and the windows glowed softly in the setting sun.

Hermione stood beside him, her hand enveloped in his. She squeezed his fingers, supportively, as she stared at the house of the girl he loved so completely. Severus said nothing; his mind was whirling with memories.

"_Severus," Lily said, and he turned to her, smiling. The way she said his name – it alone sounded magical to him. She kicked her feet out, gaining momentum on the swing beside him._

_Severus simply grasped the chains supporting the swing, his feet dragging in the sand. "What?"_

"_Can we bring pets to Hogwarts?" she asked, her long red hair tied into a braid. Her skirt fluttered as she swung higher and higher, and Severus just watched her. Her presence alone was enough to make him feel complete._

"_Yes, of course," he replied, laughing. "We can bring a cat" – and at this, she perked up – "a rat, or a toad."_

"_A _rat_?" her nose wrinkled up as she caught her feet in the sand, slowing her swing to a stop. "What are you bringing?"_

_His cheeks flushed and Severus lowered his face to his lap. "Oh, well… probably nothing."_

_Lily smiled sympathetically, reaching out to him and grabbing his hand. "Come on, let's go to the slide!"_

…_Severus was sitting under a tree on the grounds of Hogwarts, reading for one of his classes. A group of girls passed by, giggling about something or the other, but Severus paid no mind to them at all. Only when a pair of legs appeared over his book did he look up from the pages._

"_Sev," Lily said, plopping down beside him and leaning onto his shoulder. He smiled inwardly, resting his head on hers as she read from his shoulder. "Dark arts? _Again_?"_

"_It's for class this time, Lily. I promise," Severus replied, but even so, she lifted her head off his shoulder and turned to face him. He felt a sudden wave of sadness wash over him as she moved away from him so subtly._

"_That is definitely not the book for class, Sev," she replied, her voice heavily critical. "I wish you weren't so into that stuff."_

"_There's nothing wrong with it, really," he replied, poorly concealing the desperation in his tone. Closing the book, he set it in his lap. "I'll be better prepared to defend myself against it, this way!"_

"_Rubbish," Lily replied, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the tree behind her. "Sev, you're not like all the guys you hang around with. They're all so… creepy, and they're quite unkind. You're not like that."_

_A smile crossed his face and he lowered his gaze to his lap, trying to conceal his pinking cheeks. Lily suddenly reached for his hand, lacing her fingers in his and moving in closer to him. "I just don't want you to get in with the wrong crowd and get hurt, you know? I don't know what I'd ever do without you!"_

Hermione's voice brought him back to the present, her quiet whimpers as his fingers tightened around her small hand directing his attention to her. Quickly, he loosened his grip, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing the injuries he inflicted.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he whispered to her as his lips covered every surface of her hands. "There are some wounds that take a very long time to heal."

"I understand, Severus," she replied softly, reaching up to his face and tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. Leaning up to him, she kissed his mouth. "I'm here."

Pulling her into his arms, Severus hugged her tight. How he had been honored with her empathy, her compassion, her love – he would never understand. There was only one other person in the world who had ever inspired such emotions in him, and he knew it was love.

They walked for nearly an hour, the snow falling quietly around them. They did not speak much, but Hermione's mind was far from silent. She had learned so very much about this man in the past few hours, and she was considering it all. If nothing else, she came to believe that he deserved to be loved more than almost anyone else in the world. If nothing else, she felt that he deserved the best the world had to offer him.

She wondered if she could be that for him.

* * *

><p>Severus decided that he would take Hermione out for dinner their first night on holiday. He knew of a very lovely Muggle restaurant near the town where he had dined with Lily's family one evening as a teenager. Because it was a Muggle restaurant, he knew they were far less likely to be recognized there, and so he decided the risk to her was very low.<p>

When he proposed the idea to her, she addressed those very issues. "Are you sure we won't be seen?" she asked, the pitch of her voice heightened with concern.

He explained to her it was quite improbable, and that she need not worry. He would request a table in the back of the restaurant, and they would be able to eat in peace. And so their evening plans were made.

It had been a very, very long time since Severus had ever accompanied a woman to dinner, and it was a pleasant experience. Before their reservation, Hermione was frantically getting ready; she fumbled with her hair and seemed so indecisive about what outfit she should wear. Severus couldn't help but find humor in her distress, especially over something so simple!

Severus himself simply shed his long robes for the evening, his trousers and tunic neutral enough to allow him to pass for wizard or Muggle. When Hermione exited the bathroom and caught sight of her lover, she paused, her eyes scanning him from head to toe. Her cheeks turned pink as she smiled, moving towards him and confessing that he looked quite handsome in his Muggle garb.

She rushed back into the bathroom, emerging moments later. She had settled on tying her hair back and wearing a simple skirt and long-sleeved blouse. "We could blend in with any Muggle crowd now, Severus!" she laughed.

They travelled by Apparition, appearing in a back alley near the restaurant. They emerged nonchalantly from the alley to no suspicion from the surrounding Muggles, and made their way to the restaurant.

Their dinner progressed rather uneventfully. The couple sat in a back corner of the restaurant, Hermione ordering a vegetarian dish and Severus ordering a steak. They took their time, enjoying their company. Hermione, as silly as it seemed, was also enjoying that she was in public with the man she cared for deeply, and did not need to worry about being exposed.

Severus had already known how much he truly enjoyed the company of his apprentice. She was a very knowledgeable and talented witch, far above that of her classmates. They had already discussed many a time alternative methods of brewing potions, theology and history, and the benefits of a Muggle studies class for wizards. But they had left so many stones unturned, and it seemed as though Hermione wanted to address some of those aspects during their meal.

Throughout dinner, she prompted many a conversation involving the current events of both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds, offering comparisons and relationships between past events and those of the present. When the Potions Master offered an alternative opinion, Hermione handled took it into consideration, but often offered a counter argument.

They discussed the politics of the Muggle world, both in the United Kingdom and the United States. Hermione drew conclusions between events in both countries, relating one event to another and suggesting that some triggered others. Severus agreed in part, but offered alternative ideas, and Hermione considered them seriously, as ideas she had not thought of herself.

They discussed the popular culture of the Muggle and Wizarding world. Severus was rather surprised, perhaps shamefully, that Hermione was not a fan of the "pop" music of the era. He was yet more surprised that there were some similarities between his tastes and hers, in regards to all forms of media. He had known long ago that Hermione Granger was indeed a unique individual, one whom he could spend the entirety of his life with, but she continued to surprise him, and pleasantly so.

Their dinner conversation seemed to touch on all things relevant to their world, and Hermione seemed very informed on just about everything. The Potions Master was quite impressed, actually, that she was not only very intelligent within the classroom, able to master spells and potions with relative ease; but also outside the classroom, with an intimate understanding of the workings of both of her worlds.

This woman sitting before him was very beautiful, indeed. She was incredibly smart for her age, she was rational and mature, and gods! How she could love a man. How was it possible she was only eighteen? He couldn't believe just how marvelous she was, and he knew he could enjoy her company until the end of days.

He reached across the table to gently touch her hand, stroking the skin there softly. She smiled at him, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "Oh no, I'm rambling again... I'm so sorry; I'm probably talking your ear off!"

Severus shook his head. "You foolish girl, if I did not want you to share with me your thoughts I would never have initiated the conversation."

Her cheeks flashed red and she laughed again. Checking the watch on her wrist, her expression changed to one of surprise. "Severus, it's nearly ten o'clock. We should be going!"

"Indeed," Severus agreed. He flagged down the waiter, who promptly delivered their check.

Once finished, they agreed to walk through the streets for awhile. Hermione suggested they transfigure their cloaks into Muggle-like coats, as to remain inconspicuous. While winter cloaks were customary in the wizarding world, they were quite rare in the Muggle world, and she was afraid it would draw attention to them. Severus agreed and disappeared into the men's room before they left with their winter cloaks in hand. When he emerged, their cloaks had been transfigured, and he handed Hermione her cloak-turned-coat.

The air was brisk and chilly, but it was no longer snowing. Severus enveloped Hermione's hand in his, and they walked slowly. This area of London was much less decrepit, and Hermione enjoyed the sound of cars busily bustling through the city. Even this late at night, the streets were quite busy. It had been ages since Hermione had traversed through a city such as this, and she enjoyed the change in scenery.

They weren't walking for long, however. Severus had paused at a street corner to turn to his lover. He leaned down to her, passionately kissing her, his arms pulling her in close. She basked in the warmth his body offered.

As he pulled away, the corner of his mouth twitched into a sly smirk. "I grow weary of this winter weather. Shall we return home?" His gloved fingers touched Hermione's pink cheeks. "I do believe I have… plans for you, my dear." His oily voice titillated Hermione's senses, and gooseflesh rose all along her body. A familiar twinge ached in her nether regions.

"Please," Hermione replied, and she wrapped her arms about his waist.

He enveloped her once more in his embrace and the couple disappeared with a loud crack.

Severus had Apparated directly into his master bedroom. Just the thought of making love to her had been enough to lengthen his manhood, and he took her roughly in his arms and kissed her hungrily. She pushed his cloak off his shoulders and shrugged out of her own. He lowered her onto his bed, his cold hands exploring her body. Lasciviously, she met his kiss with aggressive force, her tongue massaging his. Her fingers fumbled with the clasps of his robes.

He pulled away from her mouth and began planting kisses all along her jaw and neck. She breathed a pleasured sigh, her fingers combing through his hair. As his hands worked their way down her body, he planted kisses all along the tender flesh of her throat. Sensually, he glided his fingers up her inner thigh, raising gooseflesh along the silken skin. He could feel the heat emitted from her sex, and slid a single finger along her hot, wet lips.

A gasp escaped Hermione. He was touching her through the fabric of her panties, and the touch was torturous. She craved to push her body into his hand, to increase the pressure with which he stroked her. He crawled down the length of her body, placing gentle kisses along the way. When he made it to her hips, he paused, basking in the smell of her wetness.

She lifted her hips, and Severus slid her skirt to her feet. It fell to the floor without a sound. With his finger still sliding along her wet crevice, Severus watched her squirm beneath his touch. Her breathing was heavy and raspy, her hips moving into his hand. He kissed her left inner thigh softly, his breath tickling the sensitive skin. It felt cool against the moisture of her core.

His trail of kisses ended at her undergarments, his breath tantalizing, torturing, as it barely touched her most sensitive parts. Curling his fingers around the fabric of her panties that covered her hips he pulled them slowly down her legs. His tongue flickered at her wetness, eliciting a pleasured moan from her.

He sucked her swollen nub into his mouth and caressed it gently with his tongue. Shivering against his touch, she fondled her breasts through the fabric of her shirt. Her legs quavered and closed around his head and Severus slid two fingers into her, stroking her insides.

It did not take long before she was crying out in climactic release, her legs clenched tight around his head, her hands holding his face at her core. As her pleasured cries faded into exhausted breaths, Severus kissed a trail from her sex to her face.

He was eye-level with her, staring deep into her eyes. As she kissed him, she could taste herself on his tongue. Moving her hand down to his swollen member, she pumped it slowly, moving it closer to her entrance. With his head pushing slightly into her, Severus paused.

"Hermione," he whispered, pressing his erection even further into her.

"Severus," she replied, kissing him.

"I love you."

He thrust his full length into her, pressing as deep as he could. She moaned his name, her nails scratching red trails along the pale flesh of his back. They moved together, Hermione's face flushed and freckled with droplets of sweat. She pressed a kiss to Severus' neck, her lips lingering there as he pushed deep into her. As she laid back onto the pillow, her arms tight around his back, he kissed her deeply, his tongue massaged hers aggressively. She dragged her fingers down his back, squeezing the strong muscles beneath his flesh.

As Severus released his seed within Hermione, from his throat came a guttural groan. His thrusting slowed and Hermione pulled his body close to hers, his sweaty, warm flesh pressed against hers. She combed her fingers through his hair, teasing the edge of his ear with her fingertips. With her face buried into his neck, she drank in the smell of him, the sweat of his body and the smell of the soap he used.

Severus removed himself from within her, and slowly lay down next to her. She curled into his embrace, her head resting against his chest. Allowing her eyes to flicker closed, the Potion Master's rhythmic breathing peacefully lulling her to sleep.

"Severus," she whispered. "I love you too."

She felt his arm tighten around her as she drifted into contented sleep.

* * *

><p>Hermione rolled over onto her side and clenched her eyes closed against the morning sunlight. It was glaring through the window, illuminating the room. Cracking her eyes open, she rolled back over, her arm reaching for the body of her lover. The bed was empty.<p>

Hermione sat up quickly, looking around the room. "Severus?"

The house was silent. Searching for some clothes, Hermione spotted the shirt Severus wore the night before, and she pulled it over her head. She left the bed, her feet quietly padding against the cold floor as she abandoned the bedroom in search of her lover. She heard the faint rustle of paper from the living room.

The voice of her lover startled her. "Grib, brew some coffee. Hermione is awake."

Rubbing at her eyes, Hermione walked into the living room. Severus was sitting in his threadbare armchair, the morning's _Daily Prophet_ open in his hands. "Good morning," he greeted her. "I hope I did not wake you."

"Good morning," she replied. "What time is it?"

Severus eyed a grandfather clock hidden in the corner of the room between two bookcases. "It's almost nine-thirty."

The house elf emerged from the kitchen with a silver platter and a tea set. He poured his master and Hermione cups of coffee, and bowed out of the room. Hermione, resting against the arm of the chair, sipped slowly from the cup. She peered over Severus' shoulder at the morning's headlines. It seemed to be a quiet morning in the world of wizarding news.

She thought for a moment, staring into the liquid in her cup. The heat emitted from the tea felt soothing against her face, and she closed her eyes against the sensation. "It's strange…" she began, her tone cautious.

Severus cocked an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to continue. "I would have thought, by now, we would have heard something from Voldemort. We would have unexplained deaths, or structural destruction that wasn't understood. But there has been nothing."

"The Dark Lord has been… unusually quiet, yes," Severus replied. "It is not like him to stay inactive for so long. Following the escapes from Azkaban last year… there has been nothing."

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione stared off out a window. Her sixth year – last year – at Hogwarts had been the only relatively normal year she had at the school thus far. While Voldemort managed to break his followers out of Azkaban, the threats to the students were minimal. Harry only complained of pain in his scar a handful of times, but he had not had any access to the Dark Lord's mind; despite the burning in his scar, even Harry had no idea what Voldemort was doing.

Hermione looked at him. "Has he summoned you since I began my apprenticeship?"

"Hermione, I cannot share that information with you," Severus growled.

"Severus, all things considered… don't you think you should let me know what's going on when it involves your safety?" Hermione asked. "I know it isn't my business, but… I worry."

Severus nodded slowly. "Even so, it is the business of Dumbledore and me the going-ons of the Dark Lord. I cannot risk divulging that information to anyone else. Rest assured; I am very good at what I do. I am a very powerful wizard and while I may not quite match the Dark Lord's power, I have several strong allies."

Hermione frowned, but pushed no further. She did not want to contradict him, but she couldn't help but recall their discussion just a day previous. She knew he was just trying to comfort her, but how could he use that logic when just yesterday he warned of the risk in loving him?

She looked back at the newspaper, skimming the articles on the open page. Severus coiled his arm around her, drawing her in close. She couldn't help but stare at the faint lines of the Dark Mark of his forearm. Her stomach tightened into knots as she thought about its significance.

She hated the thought that one evening, she could report to Severus' classroom for her lesson, only to find the room empty. And after searching his office and his private quarters, with no sight of her lover – she would know instantly what his absence meant.

The thought of something happening to him one evening whilst summoned to Voldemort caused her stomach to churn. Voldemort's inactivity as of late was suspicious and unnerving at best, and with Severus being one of Voldemort's highest esteemed officers, to have not heard anything at all could not be a good sign.

Itching to preoccupy her mind with something else, she said, "Do the professors keep in contact during the holidays?"

"Typically only if there is a significant event prior to vacation or an emergency during," Severus replied. "The pilferage of my stores, for example. We have kept close contact during the vacations ever since the Tournament, of course."

Hermione nodded. "I wonder if any of the professors have figured out who it is that stole your supplies."

"If they have, I have been left unawares," Severus replied nonchalantly. "Would you like breakfast? I do not have an appetite so early in the day, but that should not prevent you from eating if you are hungry."

"I am quite famished! I'll help myself," she rose from her seat and moved into the kitchen.

"Tomorrow is Christmas Eve," Severus heard her voice from the kitchen among the _clang _and _sizzle_ of whatever she was preparing. "What do you normally do on Christmas Eve?"

Severus folded the paper into his lap. "It is not unlike any other day for me, Hermione."

"Well, what would you like to have done?" she poked her head around the corner.

"I would be quite content spending it however you would like to," he replied, looking at her.

She disappeared from view. "I haven't got you anything for Christmas," she confessed, and the shame in her voice was fairly obvious. "I wasn't really sure _what_ to get you."

"That is quite fine, my dear," Severus replied. "There is no obligation of exchanging gifts. Your presence here with me this year is more than a worthwhile gift for the occasion."

Severus rose and approached the kitchen, pausing in the doorway. It was the first time he had focused his attention on her, and he had to admit he was intensely attracted to her in that moment. Her slender legs were bared to him, his long shirt hanging loosely from her form. It followed the curves of her breasts and bottom beautifully.

He felt that familiar tug in his lower abdomen, and he swept towards her, his sleeping gown emulating his robes. He snaked his arms around her, pulling her to him. She smiled, her backside pressing into his body, enabling her to feel the lengthening hardness in his groin.

"Severus, you—"

She was interrupted by a scratching at the window above the sink. Severus looked over to the source of the sound, and hurried away from Hermione when he recognized the owl. Pulling open the window, he allowed the owl into his kitchen. It landed delicately on the counter, holding its leg out to the Potions Master.

Severus removed the letter attached to the bird's leg. It clucked at him, and he picked a piece of bread off Hermione's plate and handed it to the creature. The owl accepted the offering and picked it apart before departing through the same window. Slowly unrolling the paper, his eyes scanned the note quickly. He laid the parchment on the counter where it coiled into its roll again.

"This afternoon I must meet with the Headmaster and Heads of House at the Three Broomsticks," he announced to Hermione. "I am sure you'll be able to preoccupy yourself with my library?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course! I was wondering, as well. Do you have a workshop here?"

"What sort of potions master would I be without one?" he replied, smirking at her. He gestured to a door in his library. "There is a stairway leading to the basement through that door. The laboratory is in the basement."

Hermione turned the egg on the pan. "May I use it during the break?"

"You are just as I imagined, Miss Granger," Severus said. He stroked her cheek. "I assumed you would spend your breaks studying for the upcoming material. I also assumed, when I accepted you as an apprentice, that you would remain at Hogwarts during break to continue working."

"I'm glad to see I don't disappoint your expectations, Severus," Hermione blushed.

"I have to request that you wait until I am with you, however," he added, and she nodded.

He leaned down to her, kissing her deeply. His tongue parted her lips and massaged hers in gentle caresses. She turned from her pan and leaned into his kiss, her fingers gently stroking his chest.

She pulled away slowly. "Do you know why Professor Dumbledore is calling the Heads of House together?"

Severus shook his head. "No, I haven't the slightest. I imagine it has something to do with the theft before break, but there was no mention."

Following her breakfast, Hermione and Severus decided to shower. Hermione, ever thoughtful, packed her toiletries. She had actually caught herself giggling as she packed, because the thought of Severus stocking (or using!) any kind of feminine product – whether it be sweet-smelling shampoo or a luxurious body wash – seemed quite ludicrous to the witch.

She acquired her necessities and followed the Potions Master into his bathroom. It was small and felt just as unused as the rest of the house, but it had hot water and a shower and that was all Hermione needed.

Severus slyly worked open the shirt that Hermione was wearing. He unbuttoned it to just below her breasts, freeing them for fondling. He knelt to her left breast, teasing the nipple with his tongue. She gasped, leaning against the sink.

"Severus, have you no satiety to your sexual appetite?" she asked as his fingers slid down her stomach to her groin.

"It would seem unlikely," his oily voice rumbled against her chest. He rubbed at her with his fingers gently, a moan escaping her lips. "Of course, I do not suppose you mind," he growled as he lowered to his knees to kiss her sex. He wetted his fingers with his tongue and dipped them inside her. "It certainly appears that you don't."

Hermione moaned. "Is it that obvious?" she asked between pleasured sighs.

"Quite," the Potions Master growled, his voice rumbling against her most sensitive parts. He breathed in her scent as his mouth worked delicately, yet vigorously, at her nether regions. She snaked her fingers through his hair, his name a mere whisper off her lips as he pleasured her.

She was ready for him now, and he grasped her hips, turning her to face the sink.. He stroked his throbbing member slowly, his eyes surveying her backside; she was so beautiful! He slid his hand slowly down the soft skin of her back, his nails leaving pink trails along the flesh. As his hand reached her bottom, he gently stroked the wet, hot flesh between her legs.

Pushing his body against her, he slid his hardness into her.

* * *

><p>Following their love-making, Severus and Hermione indeed showered. It, as with everything else once Hermione and the Potions Master were naked together, took longer than expected. Severus couldn't seem to keep his hands off the young witch whenever she was exposed to him, and she had to admit that she didn't mind at all.<p>

After they dressed, Severus announced that he needed to depart for the Three Broomsticks. "As much as I despise having to leave you here, I believe it would be horribly inappropriate if you were to accompany me to a faculty meeting." Severus had said, his eyes glittering mischievously.

She kissed him gently before he left. His long fingers stroked the side of her face briefly, and with a _pop!_ he was gone.


	15. Chapter 15

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 15**

Severus appeared on the street before the Three Broomsticks. The witches and wizards walked by with no concern, as Apparation was not an unusual occurrence in the streets of Hogsmeade. Shrugging his shoulders in his travelling cloak and combing his fingers through his disheveled hair, Severus eyed the passersby momentarily.

He often felt quite weary as of late whenever he was called to meet with his colleagues. _Call it paranoia. _He thought to himself. With a secret such as that he was keeping, it perhaps was no surprise that he was uneasy about faculty meetings lately. He shoved his hand into his pocket, grasping his wand firmly.

Severus knew it was foolish to concern himself so much over a paranoid suspicion. He was an excellent Occlumens, so there was no reason to believe anyone would know from reading him. Hermione, perhaps – but professors were forbidden to read the minds of students, unless given proper reason, and even so, such a thing needed to be approved by Dumbledore first… as either Albus or Severus would have to be the Legilimens hired for the task.

"Perhaps it would be worthwhile to train her in Occlumency," Severus growled, his voice hushed.

He pushed open the door to the pub, and peered around. He spotted Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick sitting in a booth towards the back of the pub. Nodding his acknowledgement, he approached the bar to order a drink.

"Ah, Severus, my friend!" came a familiar friendly voice from behind the Potions Master.

"Good afternoon, Headmaster," he replied, turning slightly to catch sight of Dumbledore.

"Ordering a Scotch, I presume! Madam Rosmerta, my dear, I shall take an eggnog!" Dumbledore requested. "Her eggnog is absolutely lovely. I don't suppose you've tried it, Severus?"

"I have not," Severus replied, his voice low.

"Ah, well, I highly recommend it!" Dumbledore said. He turned towards the booth the others had taken. "It looks as though we are waiting on Pomona and Poppy to arrive."

Rosmerta set a heavy glass of Scotch on the bar and smiled at Albus as she retreated to a backroom, presumably to retrieve the eggnog. Severus picked up the glass and took a sip.

"Thank you, my dear!" Albus gleefully said as she handed him his cup of eggnog. He drank from it and sighed, pleased. "As delightful as always, Madam Rosmerta. Thank you!"

Dumbledore made his way to the table with the Heads of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, Severus following close behind. As he sidled his way into the booth, he greeted his colleagues.

Severus sat down slowly at the end of the table beside the Headmaster. Greeting the other professors in kind, he traced the lip of his glass with his finger. There was absolutely no hint, no clue as to why this meeting was called. Rationally, Severus believed it may involve the theft of his supplies. But there was a part of him that worried, perhaps irrationally, that they were there to confront him about his relationship with Hermione.

Professor Sprout entered the pub and waved to her coworkers. She stopped by the bar to order a drink, and talked cheerfully with the barmaid as she prepared the beverage.

"Just a few more minutes and we should be able to begin," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling at the others.

Severus was growing impatient. He sipped from his Scotch, trying to calm his nerves. It was uncharacteristic of the Potions Master to grow anxious, but his ignorance to this meeting's purpose was bothering him greatly

"Pray tell what this is about, Headmaster," Severus asked silkily, eyeing Dumbledore cautiously. He knew not why he distrusted this conference's purpose so much, but he was livid with unease.

"I shall once the others arrive, Severus!" he sipped his eggnog.

Snape took a small sip of his whiskey and set the heavy glass down on the old wooden table. Poppy Pomfrey finally entered the pub. She came straight to the table, greeting everyone with a warm smile. Pomona Sprout was not far behind, her glass in hand.

Dumbledore shifted in his seat slightly and looked around at the familiar faces. Severus had to slide in close to the Headmaster to allow for the others to sit in the booth. He scowled, wondering why on Earth Minerva and Filius decided this table, of all the tables in the pub, was the logical choice.

"I'm sure you all are wondering why I asked you here on this lovely day before Christmas Eve, and on such short notice," Albus began.

There were some mumbled comments by the other professors, but Severus remained quiet. He sipped his Scotch, watching the others.

"As you know, before break I sent out owls to the parents informing them of the theft," he began, nodding towards Severus. "I have received some information from the parents of a student who wish to remain anonymous. Their child suspected one of his fellow classmates, a Slytherin."

There were some audible gasps from the professors, and Pomona glanced at Severus. The Potions Master's grip tightened around his glass as he grew angry with this information. The nerve of one of his own students!

"I have no evidence for such claims. I will continue to do some sleuthing to find out what I can," Dumbledore continued.

"Who is the accused student?" Professor Flitwick asked, eyeing Snape.

Dumbledore turned towards the small professor, peering at him through his half-moon glasses. "The student named, who I must reaffirm is only _accused_" – he looked at Severus, who was trying to conceal his anger – "was Katrina Filthrum."

Severus looked up from his drink suddenly, feeling a combination of fury and confusion. Miss Filthrum was not a delinquent student, and this accusation seemed very out of character for the girl.

"Now, Severus, I understand how this can make you angry," the old wizard began. "But we don't know for certain just yet if it is indeed Miss Filthrum. I hope you do not react to this information, as it is not confirmed."

Severus shook his head. "I do not believe it to be true, Headmaster. She is a very well-behaved student. Theft is unlike her."

Dumbledore nodded. "I also thought so, but I will investigate this matter further as we try to discover the true culprit. In the meantime, I request that you do not act on this information."

Severus nodded. "Of course, Headmaster."

The other professors remained quiet for a moment, exchanging glances and unspoken words. Severus' mind was pondering the possibility that Filthrum had been the thief – but he couldn't rationalize why a fourth year student would steal those items; she wasn't a particularly skilled brewer, either, and the fertility potion required precision and expertise to craft accurately.

After some time passed in silence, the professors began discussing their Christmas plans. Severus, of course, said nothing; how inappropriate would it be to share _his _Christmas plans? His only intention was to remain tucked away in his bed with Hermione for the day, making love throughout the hours. He imagined for a moment her flushed face below him, her moans of pleasure, the feeling of her tightness wrapped around him…

"Severus, I would like to speak with you alone," Dumbledore said, interrupting his reverie. "Happy holiday to the rest of you!"

The other professors started standing from the booth, sliding out to leave. Severus and Albus bid them farewell, and the two men were left alone. Severus felt his stomach knot as that familiar paranoia emerged yet again. He could not feel Albus trying to penetrate his mind, but he wasn't sure if the man wouldn't try.

"Severus," the Headmaster began, pulling his spectacles off his crooked nose and setting them on the table. The old man rubbed at the corners of his eyes, in a way that he did only when he was concerned about something.

Severus eyed him suspiciously. He finished off his whiskey, setting the glass at the end of the table to be cleared with the others. He felt as though he should order a second, as the mannerisms of the older man beside him unnerved him. Several moments passed before Dumbledore said anything.

Severus shifted in his seat. Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed. It seemed as though he was torturing himself with how to begin the conversation. Severus did not like how long it was taking for the elder man to speak, and he suspected he knew precisely where the conversation was going.

"Severus," he said again. "After I met with you the morning of break, I ran into Harry Potter and the Weasleys as they were making to leave."

The Potions Master now had a very good idea as to where this conversation was going. As he began formulating a response, he responded: "And?" his voice was oily, intentionally expressing the irritation.

Perhaps if Dumbledore knew that the repeated accusations simply annoyed Severus, he would let it rest. _Unlikely._ Thought Severus bitterly, and he manipulated his wand in his pocket, trying to quell his apprehension. Albus was only doing his job; above all else, his love for Hogwarts and his concern for the students would prevail. As it should.

"I thought it odd that I did not see Miss Granger there as well. It was my understanding that she usually spent the holiday with her family or with the Weasleys," he continued.

Severus' heartbeat fluttered. Perhaps that second Scotch would still be of use. He raised his hand to catch the attention of the barmaid, who nodded with a smile and disappeared behind the bar.

Dumbledore was obviously distressed by the words he was speaking. When he paused, it seemed indefinite, and when he spoke, the words were slow. The twinkle in his eyes was replaced by a dull seriousness that Severus only witnessed when they were discussing very dark, dark matters.

"The boys informed me that Miss Granger was staying at the school for the holiday to continue working on her project," Dumbledore continued.

The barmaid set Severus' drink on the table and collected the other glasses. Severus nodded to her and pulled the glass to him, sipping from it. Dumbledore hesitated for a very long time (yet again) and Severus was watching him closely.

He knew precisely where this conversation was going, and he did not like the thought of it at all. He had not anticipated Potter speaking to Dumbledore before he left for break, and because he did not expect it, he did not plan for it. Foolish on his part, perhaps, as he knew Hogwarts kept records of every student who was staying for the break, so the students could receive their gifts properly and on time. Severus cursed himself for forgetting this small detail, but there was no use for it now.

"Strangely enough… there is no record of her staying," Dumbledore said.

"I fail to see the relevance of your mentioning this to me," Severus growled, taking a rather long gulp from his whiskey.

"Given recent… accusations," Dumbledore began, but Severus refused to let him finish.

"Perhaps it is due to recent accusations that you are so quick to mistrust me, Albus," Severus growled. "Do you not think it is quite possible that Granger decided to visit her parents for the vacation?"

"I suppose that is also an alternative explanation. Perhaps she did indeed change her mind at the last minute, and failed to inform her friends," Dumbledore said, though he did not sound convinced. He peered at Severus over his half-moon spectacles, and the Potions Master suddenly felt as though he was a pupil of Dumbledore's once more.

"Severus, if there is _anything_ happening between yourself and Miss Granger, it will not remain secret forever," Dumbledore warned. "You must be careful in your actions, Severus. This is not safe."

Severus did not reply to the man. He finished his whiskey, slapped down a few coins, and rose from the table.

"Happy Christmas, Headmaster," he growled, and swept away.

* * *

><p>While Severus was gone, Hermione had taken to his library. She picked up a volume of an alchemy encyclopedia, and retreated to the threadbare armchair.<p>

Sitting cross-legged in the chair, the heavy book in her lap, Hermione read through the pages slowly. It was a fascinating read, truly; she was piquing her interest in various potions she had never heard of, and hoped dearly Severus would permit her to craft. But as she sat there reading, her mind began to wander.

_Is this normal?_ Hermione thought. She had tried not to think too much on the subject, but as she sat in Severus' sitting room, she couldn't help but ponder the circumstance.

There were several occasions when the Head Girl was sitting quietly, in the library or in her rooms, when she started considering the situation she was in. How absurd was it that she was engaged in a love affair with her professor? Moreover, how insane was it that she engaged in sexual intercourse regularly with her professor, especially one whom she held such disdain for in the past – a man who, in fact, raped her?

Hermione could not make sense of why he had ever raped her in the first place. She tried not to think of _that_ particular incident too much because it recalled the gruesome reality of the beginning of their relationship. It had barely been a few months since the horrendous event occurred, and here she was, in the house of her assailant.

Yet she never thought of him as _that_ man anymore. She could almost forget that he had ever caused her such pain and humiliation, because ever since he had been so very delicate, so gentle with her. He _made love_ to her, as every man should to a woman he cares for.

She had experienced the two opposing extremes of sex, and at the hands of the same man. She had been incredibly humiliated and violently assaulted – something she found very hard to swallow (as she should – she knew that rape was a serious offense that should never be taken lightly). But that same man, he was capable of loving her so intensely, loving her so completely that she felt as though he was the missing piece of her that completed her being.

She picked at a loose piece of thread on the arm of the chair. She did not regret her decision to leave the rape unreported. She knew with every inch of her being that if she reported what Severus had done, he would have been removed from Hogwarts. Hermione did not want to see harm come to her friends, her classmates, because Severus was no longer in the safety of Hogwarts. Even though he raped her, she hadn't wanted any harm to come to him, either.

At the time, when she had made her decision, she had not considered the fact that there was a possibility that Dumbledore either would not removed Severus from his staff position – instead, forbidding him to ever remain alone in a room with a student again, or some other form of monitoring – or still confer with him outside the halls of Hogwarts. She did not consider that possibility and she wondered now if she had, would it have affected her choice? Would her decision have been any different if Severus were not so vital to the war?

There was no use second-guessing herself now, as she had no intention ever reporting Severus. Even if they failed to last until the end of the term, he would have a very difficult time explaining to Dumbledore why he raped her, and then additionally why he continued having an inappropriate sexual relationship with a student.

She was certain that what she felt for Severus was love. She knew it seemed very, very strange indeed that she could fall in love with a man who violently raped her, but when she saw the amount of remorse and guilt for his behaviors, she knew he was absolutely sorry. Whether or not a man could apologize for such a heinous crime, Hermione knew not. But what she did know was while she could never totally forget what happened to her, she could forgive Severus. And she had.

There was an uncharacteristic sensitivity to the man in the weeks following the attack. He tolerated her childishness as she handled the situation, forcing herself to heal and move on. He answered all of her questions, and he was infinitely supportive of whatever path she decided to take. Hermione knew that he must have felt cowardly for not reporting himself to Dumbledore, but she knew as well as he did that his services were imperative to the cause of defeating evil, and he was very valuable to the side of the light.

Neither of them knew why Severus Snape had raped Hermione. The Potions Master, a man of extreme control, was not one to let his emotions overtake his logic. He had the utmost rationality for every behavior, and yet he had somehow behaved inexcusably towards a woman who trusted him without question. He had somehow lost complete control of his body and violently assaulted his apprentice. Neither of them knew why he did it, and they probably never would.

Hermione heaved a heavy sigh. Whenever she thought about the roots of their relationship, her stomach turned and it wasn't the good, lovey-dovey kind of turn. It turned with nausea, with anxiety, as she couldn't bear relate the man who she was so in love with now, the man who made love to her with the gentlest nature, to the man who had violently stolen her virginity in an uncontrollable rage of lust.

The back of her throat burned with the threat of tears. Trying to distract herself, she returned her attention to the book in her lap. She knew it would not do well to dwell on the past. It did not take long for her to become absorbed once more in the reading, and she was thankful for it. The rest of the world was drowned out to her now, and she was pleased that all was as it should be.

When Severus Apparated into his home, the sudden noise startled Hermione so violently that the book she was reading fell from her lap. She leaned over to retrieve the book from the floor, setting it on the arm of the chair and standing to greet Severus.

"Your friends spoke to Professor Dumbledore before they departed for break," Severus said, looking at her.

Her expression slowly changed to one of concern, as she realized the significance of that statement. "He doesn't know…?"

The harsh lines of Severus' face were exaggerated by his expression of frustration. "That was not the purpose of the conference, but he made sure to mention it to me when the others left. I denied the accusation, but Hermione, I am growing so weary of lying to the man."

"I know, Severus… I know," she sighed, sitting slowly. "I feel as though every lie you tell, the deeper you're digging your grave."

"Indeed," Severus growled. "But let us enjoy our vacation. It is the first time I have had company on this holiday, and I plan to enjoy myself."

Hermione smiled warmly. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea, Severus."

* * *

><p>Hermione and Severus spent most of the afternoon locked away in the master bedroom, enjoying each other. They lay in Severus' warm bed in the nude, Hermione resting her head against Severus' chest, his long fingers combing through her hair.<p>

"Don't you think this is strange?" the question was very sudden, and it took Severus a moment to understand what it was she was asking, exactly.

His answer did not come immediately. Hermione lifted her head to look into Severus' face, and she recognized that he was considering the question seriously. She laid her head back down, her fingers drawing shapes on his chest.

"I do," he whispered.

Hermione waited for him to continue. The pause was very long, but she understood that Severus did not say anything that was not worth speaking. He wanted to formulate an answer to her question that was satisfactory, an answer she could understand and relate to. An answer that would satisfy them both.

"Hermione," his voice was soft. "I have done horrible things in my life, and I believe you are aware of that. I have done many things that I regret, many things that haunt me. But, more than anything else I have ever done, I agonize over my assault of you. When you fled the classroom that horrible night, I was abandoned there with the skeletons I thought I had skillfully hidden away. I don't know why that happened. I don't know why I raped you.

"I will never forgive myself for betraying you in such a horrific way. I will never forgive my robbery of your innocence, or the anguish I caused you. I will never forgive that I forced you into such a situation that you had to place the well-being of everyone else above your own. You did not deserve what happened to you, and I will never forgive myself for hurting you in that way.

"I don't know when it happened. Somewhere between the evening I accepted your apprenticeship to the morning you confessed you did not know how you felt about me, I fell in love with you. I knew I had absolutely no right to love you, as you deserve more than I could ever give you. But I loved you. I knew it was abnormal and inappropriate, and I did my damnedest to suppress it. But it was overwhelming.

"When you asked me yesterday if I had ever loved before, I could not help but find an innocent humor to your question. I have only ever loved one woman in my life, and I believed I would love her forever, and I was doomed to a life of loneliness because of that – but when you had asked, I had known then that I was wrong. I knew that I was mistaken because I had fallen in love with you. I had loved you for months by then, and I knew I would love you for years later.

"Is this strange? It absolutely is. I am nearly twenty years your senior, and what is more I am your teacher. Everything about our relationship is inappropriate. It is abnormal. But I will be damned if I am not happier now than I have been in decades. I will be damned if I will let some unconventionality rob me of that."

Hermione had ceased her drawing as Severus was speaking. She couldn't believe the words that he was saying; even considering how well she had grown to know him in recent months, it seemed very uncharacteristic of him to say anything like that. But she knew he was being honest, he was being sincere, and he wanted her to know that he loved her. Very much.

One question plagued her mind, though. She did not ask before, because she wasn't sure she should. But she had to know. She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked him in the eyes.

As amber met ebony, she asked: "Have you been protecting Harry because you loved his mother?"

Severus' entire body froze. His face was unreadable to Hermione, and she worried she had crossed a line. The corner of his mouth twitched, and she thought perhaps she recognized that smile she had grown to love so much.

"Perhaps that is a matter we can discuss at another time, my dear," he replied, his arm tightening around her to draw her in. "I'm afraid there is not enough time left in the day to explain that to you so you will understand it."

Hermione, though disappointed, nodded. There were so many aspects of Severus' past that she was eager to know, and there were equally as many things that he seemed determined to keep private from even her. While that was something she would respect, she was afraid it would grow old, soon.

"I know, Hermione. There is very much you still wish to know about me, and I promise you, the day will come where you will know so much you'll wish you never knew me at all," he growled, his voice somber.


	16. Chapter 16

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 16**

Hermione insisted that she and Severus spend more time working on her project than they had been (which had been no time at all). That Christmas Eve afternoon, she dragged her lover to the basement, which was indeed equipped with a very extravagant laboratory. Severus' Christmas gift for Hermione was that he had secretly transported all of her work to his home for her to work with, and when she recognized this, she gasped with glee.

"Oh, Severus! You sneaky thing, you!" she clapped her hands together with elation, turning to embrace Severus in an overbearing hug.

He couldn't help but chuckle at her happiness, and he felt as though, if he were capable of such a thing, he would burst with joy as well. It had been a very long time since he had been able to give to someone something they thought so wonderful, and he had forgotten what it felt like.

Her expression rapidly transformed from glee to gloom, as she exclaimed, "Severus, I didn't get anything for you!"

_The silly girl,_ Severus thought. Had she no idea just what she has given him in recent months? He doubted any gift in the world she could offer him would hold greater significance to him than the love she had given him.

Severus, who had shrugged out of her bear-like embrace, shook his head. "Hermione, you have bestowed to me the greatest of all gifts. You have given me your heart. I need nothing more."

Hermione smiled, wrapping her arms around him once more and kissing him deeply. "Severus, months ago I would have pinned you as anything but a romantic. I never would have imagined this side of you."

With his hands on her hips, the corner of Severus' mouth twitched into a smirk. "Well, as you can imagine, Miss Granger – it would be especially inappropriate if I revealed to my students my romantic side."

Hermione smiled at this, and she couldn't help but imagine Severus dressed as Gilderoy Lockhart, with extravagant dress robes in beautiful colors, his black hair tied back with a matching ribbon. It was a humorous sight to see, and she laughed out loud.

"Let us get to work, shall we?" Severus offered, interrupting her rather amusing train of thought.

"Oh, yes!" Hermione exclaimed, hurrying to the workbench her supplies had been placed upon.

Her textbook rested there, alongside an assortment of vials and jars. To the left of her table stood a case of various reagents and to the left of that there was a door leading to a room full of further supplies. She turned to Severus, awaiting her instruction.

"Open your book to page seven hundred eighty-six," he stated, approaching the table as well. He peered over her shoulder to the entry on the page, prepared to answer any questions she may have.

Hermione set right to work, moving to the shelving to collect the ingredients necessary. She also disappeared into the storeroom on several occasions to pull out various jars of reagents, setting them delicately down on her workbench. She tied her hair back and donned her apron and gloves. When it appeared she did not need any assistance, Severus sat down behind the small desk he had in his laboratory, to do as he usually did while she worked: he graded papers.

With as much of his time he had invested in Hermione, he admitted he was falling behind in his class work. He had a stack of fifth year papers that he hadn't so much as glanced at since they had been turned in, and he begrudgingly set them on his desktop, dipping his quill in red ink and marking where appropriate – which turned out to be nearly every paragraph of every page of every paper.

Hermione continued to work several hours on the assigned potion. He had instructed her to craft the fire protection potion that she and Harry consumed when they were in their first year to bypass the flames. She was quite excited to work on this assignment, as she had never actually tried to brew anything of the sort and it was proving a challenge, indeed!

By the second hour, Severus had finished his task and was hovering over Hermione, watching her work. He absolutely enjoyed observing her, as she had an extraordinary work ethic and a fascinating fashion of operating. She became so absorbed in her work, it was as though the world around her did not exist, and she only broke her concentration when she was uncertain of something. The way she behaved when working reminded Severus very much of himself; on several occasions, the Potions Master found himself imagining he and Hermione several years later, working together on difficult concoctions, and breaking from their work only to make love. He had to admit, while the thought was romantic at best, he enjoyed it very much.

After she had finished, she turned to Severus. "I believe it's done."

Severus stalked to the workbench, his hands clasped behind his back, to examine her work. It appeared to be a rather exceptional brew, and Severus was pleased with his apprentice. He looked at her.

"I will have you add several more ingredients tomorrow morning – if you recall from your escapades in your first year, I had crafted several of these to protect its consumer from different flames. I will have you do the same," he explained. "How long does this need to set before it is ready for differentiation?"

"Eighteen hours," Hermione answered quickly. "And it needs to cool; it cannot simmer over the open flame, but instead set in a cool, dark place." Hermione knelt down to the blaze beneath the cauldron and used her wand to extinguish the flame.

Severus cast a charm over the cauldron that covered it in darkness, and Hermione assumed beneath that cover it was also significantly cooler than in the rest of the basement. She was eager to continue working but knew she had to wait, and became aware of the tightness in her stomach as it growled in hunger.

Severus, too, noticed her hunger, as her stomach growled. He looked at her, his eyebrow cocked. "Shall we eat?"

Hermione nodded. "I hadn't realized quite how famished I am,' she admitted. "But I am absolutely starving!"

They ate in Severus' kitchen, discussing the day's news over an open _Daily Prophet_. The wizarding world had no news to offer, truly, and it was quite evident by the absurd articles published in the paper that morning. Severus also had subscribed to the London daily paper, and that lay to the side of the _Daily Prophet_. Hermione folded it open.

She opened first to the obituaries, a grim habit Severus found himself doing several mornings out of the week. He watched her as she browsed the deaths, and breathed a sigh of relief with her when she knew none of the deceased.

"Every morning I wake with a small sense of dread," Hermione admitted. "I check the obituaries for the unexplained death of someone. When there's nothing but deaths from 'natural causes' or a 'long illness,' I know that we have perhaps one more day of peace."

Severus understood very well what she spoke of. He found himself doing the very same on most mornings, looking for any sign of Voldemort's activity, anything at all that would clue him into the Dark Lord's activity. He had been laying low for far too long, and with Severus having heard nothing from him, it was very disconcerting.

Grib cleared the table once Severus declared they were finished with their meal. Severus led Hermione to his library, where he took a seat and pulled her by the hips into his lap. She scooted into the crook between his leg and the arm of the chair, resting against him.

"I think this is the nicest holiday vacation I've had in a very long time, Severus," Hermione kissed him. "Thank you."

"Hermione, you haven't any idea how enjoyable your company has been," Severus combed his fingers through her hair. He strained to look into her eyes, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose.

She rested her head against his shoulder.

Severus reached to the table beside him and lifted a book he had been reading between classes. Setting it in his lap, he cracked it open at the page he last left, and began to read. Hermione's eyes flickered shut as she listened to his even, slow breathing. She twisted her fingers in his hair.

"What was Christmas like when you were young?" she asked, her voice soft.

The flickering movement of Severus' eyes stopped immediately when she asked her question. He breathed in deep, closed the book, and began stroking Hermione's back with his fingers. A small sigh escaped him as he tried to remember the happiest Christmas he had. As sad as it was to admit, it was a hard thing to recall.

"It was small, quiet," Severus answered, dragging his fingers along her spine. "It was not unlike this Christmas we will share here, except I expect this Christmas to be the happiest I've had."

Hermione did not want to press further because she suspected Severus did not have very many happy memories to share with her as a child, and it saddened her. Every day, she came to understand him more and more, and she also realized that she had always been so mistaken about him.

"Severus," Hermione began softly, her fingers tugging through his hair gently. "I love you."

"And I love you, Hermione," he replied, pressing a kiss to her head before returning to his book.

A long while passed in silence, Hermione's small hands pulling through the silky length of Severus' black hair. The quiet whispering rustle of paper disturbed the otherwise perfect silence, and Hermione allowed her eyes to flicker closed against his even breathing. And then, she remembered the gifts she had failed to send.

Hermione stood from Severus' lap, to the surprise of the Potions Master. He looked up at her, curious.

"I have a few gifts I need to send out before it gets too late and the owls can't get there in time," she told him, and he simply nodded.

It was about an hour later when Hermione emerged from Severus' bedroom, having sent all of her gifts. As she entered the library, she spotted Severus in his armchair, absorbed in his reading. She smiled, deciding to leave him be for the time being. She had some reading she had to do as well for her classes when school resumed, and she felt it was the ideal time to begin working on it. She acquired her Transfiguration text from her bag and nestled into Severus' lap, cracking the book on her lap. The couple read in silence until the sunset.

Severus discovered it was becoming increasingly difficult to read the tiny print on the pages. Curiously, he looked up from his book to discover that the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. He turned his attention onto Hermione, who, too, was squinting to read the words of the book in her lap. He waved his hand and the room was suddenly illuminated by candles.

"Oh, that is so much better, thank you," Hermione said, looking up at Severus. "I would like to get ahead with my reading before school starts again," she began, setting her book down. "I've a lot of reading to finish – I hope you don't mind."

Severus shook his head. "That is absolutely fine, Hermione. I would not forgive myself if your education suffered because of me."

Hermione smiled. "I knew you'd understand."

They spent the remainder of their Christmas Eve, nestled in the armchair, reading. It was not unlike how Severus had spent his previous Christmases, except that he was not alone this year. He had wondered how he had been blessed with her love, how he had come to deserve it after he had committed such a horrible crime against her. He questioned it every day, wearily prepared for the day she decided that her relationship with him was just absolutely preposterous. But tonight, he was determined to solely enjoy her company there, without wondering what he had done in his life to deserve such an honor.

* * *

><p>As the night approached, Hermione finally pulled her attention away from her reading. Severus was heavily absorbed in his own book and she shifted against him, drawing his attention. He looked at her, the lines in his face exaggerated by the candlelight. She suddenly became very aware of their difference in age, and with her fingers she gently traced the lines around Severus' mouth. He allowed it, watching her eyes trace the very same lines.<p>

"Severus, you appear much older than you are," she said finally, her voice solemn. "I hate to know the stresses your body endures. It has aged you, it must have."

The corners of Severus' mouth tugged into a sympathetic smile. "Indeed, Hermione. I do what I must, the consequences be damned."

Hermione frowned, shaking her head. "Sometimes I think you do too much," she said.

He could have chuckled, if he knew she wasn't serious. But she indeed was quite serious, and she had reason to be concerned. A man of nearly thirty-seven, and yet the harsh lines etched in his face told the tale of a man in his fifties. Perhaps when the war was over, he could truly "settle down" and enjoy a life of teaching – if the students he had to instruct grew any smarter, that is. Perhaps he could actually invest a new home, a home with no history; a home in which he could forge new memories.

But until the war ended, such thinking was wishful at best. Severus lived day-to-day, and he would continue to until Voldemort was defeated.

Hermione had risen from the Potions Master's lap to retrieve a different textbook, this one for her ancient runes class. He took advantage of the moment to stand and stretch his legs, which were becoming tight under the pressure of her weight. As she moved back into the room, he sat down once more, and she returned to his lap.

Somewhere around ten o'clock, he interrupted her reading. She looked at him, her eyes glossy.

"I think it's about time we go to the bedroom," he suggested, though his tone of voice insinuated he had no intentions on actually sleeping.

Hermione smiled in agreement, rubbing at her eyes to push the sleep away. She rose from his lap, setting her book down on top of the side table, and followed him into the bedroom. There they succumbed not to sleep, but to the bodies of each other. Severus, impatient, removed every article of clothing she wore, planting kisses on the newly exposed flesh as soon as it was bared to him.

Once she was nude, he slowly laid her back into his bed and shrugged out of his own robes. He climbed the length of her, kissing every inch of her body he came across. Her lips were curled into a seductive smile as she pushed up towards him to kiss him deeply. She lowered her hands to his member, already hardening, and stroked it slowly.

His strong hands fondled her breasts as he kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth hungrily. With her free hand, she pushed his hair out of his face, pulling away from the kiss to kiss his neck. His jaw and face were rough with hair, and it scraped against the soft skin of her face, sending a chill down her spine.

Hermione bent her legs, letting them fall open to surround Severus. He lowered his manhood to her, pressing in at her opening. She let out a soft moan as he pushed himself into her, filling her. As they moved together in the candlelight, their soft sighs of pleasure surrounding them, they forgot the world outside of where they were, and all that existed was them.

* * *

><p>Daylight approached rapidly, and Severus found himself wakeful far too early in the morning hours. Through the darkness of his bedroom, he could barely see the sleeping form of Hermione, her body turned to him, her arm across his waist. His eyes followed the mountains of sheets that conformed to the curves of her body. Her face was angelic in the soft glow of the early morning hours, and he placed a gentle kiss upon her forehead.<p>

He loved her, dearly, and if he had nothing more in this world than time with her he thought he could accept that. He could not remember the last time he had felt this way. Certainly, his unrequited love for Lily had endured many, many years – through her rejection of him, through her relationship with Potter, through the birth of their son – and it would endure still. Severus knew he would always love her, as though her name were burned into the muscle of his heart. The scars she gave him, inadvertently so, would remain until his dying breath.

But Lily, she had not reciprocated his love. She cared for him as a close friend, and while his slip-of-the-tongue had not changed that, she had never forgiven him. His interest in the dark arts only intensified from there, and as he invested himself more deeply in dark magic, she pulled further and further away from him. Once she decided to give James Potter a chance – that was a blow too severe for Severus to recover from. His heart was shattered, and yet it would continue to love her for many years. A love that would drive his life into the light, a love that would force him to sacrifice everything.

He had never known what it felt like to have that turned onto him. Severus had never been loved so dearly, so passionately, that one would die if it meant to save him. Certainly, he had those who were loyal to him, those would do anything to help him if it was within their means – but to Severus, love was to do anything to help another person, even if it is without your means, even if it meant your death. Severus had loved Lily in that way, and even after she was so callously murdered, he continued to love her in that way, to preserve her legacy, to protect her son.

And then by some fateful turn, with the arrival of Harry Potter to the school, a girl, not so unlike Lily, accompanied him. A Muggleborn girl, so much brighter than her pure- and half-blooded peers, who believed she had to prove her worth in the wizarding world, to prove that she was indeed worthy of the time and effort spent to educate her. A girl, whose wit and intellect were only matched by her compassion and capacity for love. A woman who, when faced with the most devastating of circumstances, was strong enough to rise above her terror and agony to forgive and to love, indiscriminately, completely.

For a very long time he thought perhaps he was incapable of being loved, for he had done some heinous things in his lifetime. If there were a god, and Severus was not so sure if there was or was not, surely he would be punished for the crimes he had committed. Surely his punishment was to be unloved, for who could love someone who had done as he had? Severus hoped that some day, he would cease questioning her love of him, and accept her affections as something he truly deserved.

When Hermione had confronted him about an apprenticeship position, Severus hesitantly accepted her. He wondered at times, foolishly perhaps, if his hesitancy was not so much his deliberate attempt at being asinine, but perhaps because, somewhere inside of him, he knew that she was endangering herself by doing so. He may not have predicted raping her, but he knew that she would spend a great amount of her time in the dungeons working on her project, and spending that much time with him could only condone the development of a relationship. If she had come to care for him, she surely would be in danger of harm – perhaps not only emotional, but physical. He didn't want another woman he loved to meet the same demise.

As he watched her sleep, he realized that it was only time he needed before he would come to care for her. She was so much like Lily in so many ways, he knew – he knew that he would come to love her before long, despite of how inappropriate such feelings would have been.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, the darkened bedroom became more illuminated and her sleeping face was clearer to him. A small sound came from her, and she moved in closer to the Potions Master, instinctively seeking his warmth. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into him, kissing her neck gently.

"Happy Christmas, Severus," her voice was heavy with sleep, the words nearly garbled.

Severus felt his cheeks lift in a small smile as she raised her face to look into his. With glazy eyes, she stared into the depths of his, and placed a kiss upon his lips.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione," he responded finally. "I hope I did not wake you."

"With gentle kisses such as those, I hardly think it was a rude awakening, regardless," Hermione said, her voice soft.

She slowly sat up, the sheets falling to her lap to expose her naked form. Severus touched the smooth skin of her back, watching her rise from the bed and pull on her sleeping clothes. He, too, rose from the bed, donning his sleeping gown and leading her to the sitting room. Turning to watch her face, his lips twitched into a small smile as the realization came to her that he had, once again, surprised her.

As she entered the sitting room, it seemed unusually lighted to her. And then, it came into her view: a tall Christmas tree, glittering beautifully with flame and pretty metal ornaments. A huge smile crossed her face, threatening to tear her cheeks in two. She turned to Severus.

"When—How?" she exclaimed. She hadn't yet noticed the gifts sitting at the foot of the tree addressed in her name.

"That is my surprise for you, my dear," he said. "It seems you have some gifts, as well."

Hermione bent to the presents, pulling them out one-by-one. There weren't many, but it was more than she expected. She looked up at Severus, who had seated himself in his armchair, watching her with mild intrigue. Suddenly, she felt bad.

"But there's nothing here for you," she said, sadly.

"Ah, but you are mistaken, Miss Granger," his oily voice crooned silkily. "You are here, and that is all I desire."

Her cheeks turned pink as she returned to the gifts, peeling the wrapping paper to reveal the items inside. A scarf from Mrs. Weasley, a box of chocolates from Ron, a photograph in a frame from Portugal from her parents, a tiny trinket from Dobby, and a book on alchemy from Harry (how he knew she didn't already possess that book, she'd never know).

A tiny gift remained beneath the tree that Hermione nearly overlooked, and when she lifted it, Severus' expression changed just slightly. As she delicately removed the paper, her eyes widened as she realized it was a tiny black velvet box. Flipping open the cover revealed a silver ring with a sapphire set in the crown, and she looked up at Severus.

"It was my mother's," Severus said softly. "And as I understand it, sapphire is the stone of September."

Hermione pulled the ring out of the box, examining it. "Yes, sapphire is my birthstone… It's beautiful, Severus. Thank you." She slipped the ring onto her finger, and the band shrank slightly to fit her finger. "I'm honored, truly."

Severus rose from his seat, wrapping his arms around Hermione's waist. "The honor is mine, Miss Granger," he said, his voice soft. He leaned into her to kiss her gently.

"Breakfast, Master Snape," came a creaky voice from the kitchen. Severus turned towards the doorway, and the house elf was setting the table in the kitchen.

For the most part, their Christmas day was uneventful. Hermione poked and prodded Severus about any surviving family he had, which she was sad to learn there were not many. Changing the subject, he inquired about her family and their customs on the holidays.

"Since about my third year, my parents would vacation during the holiday, as I preferred to stay with Harry and Ron," Hermione replied. "Those two are absolutely abysmal at writing letters, you know. They forget, and I never hear from them over breaks – so I took to accompanying them to the Burrow. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are very accommodating, and they've become like my second parents."

Severus nodded, listening to her talk. He knew the Weasleys quite well, having spent much of his time at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. He had been the one to brew the antidote for Arthur Weasley when he was attacked by Nagini, by request of the Weasley patriarch – many of Severus' acquaintances were quite familiar with his alchemy skill, and trusted only him to brew potions especially when pertaining to their health. Severus also understood completely when Hermione spoke of their indulgent nature, as he had been invited to dinner on several occasions when Molly was cooking at the Order's home base.

Not to mention, he had taught each of the Weasley children. When a family has as many children as Arthur and Molly – which was, admittedly, quite rare – one becomes quite acquainted with the parents.

He watched her as she told him of stories from her childhood, humorous tidbits from family gatherings that made her laugh. Her happiness was contagious, and when she giggled, a smile crept across Severus' face, and on a few occasions even he released an uncharacteristic chuckle. During her story-telling, her face would turn pink when the humor was at her expense, and those were the stories he enjoyed most. Not for her embarrassment – a thing he appreciated greatly in the past (and had even sought to cause it, on occasion) – but because she was confessing to him that she was not a perfect individual, and she too had blunders.

He couldn't help but hope that the day would last into eternity, as it had been the best Christmas he'd had.

A little bit after noon, Hermione hurried back into the basement. She had almost forgotten she had a potion cooling in the dark. Severus followed after her, descending the stairs slowly. Hermione waved her wand and the cauldron was free of its cover. Donning her protective wear, she prepared to work.

Severus stood behind her, observing her quietly. She divided her potion into several different vials, setting them on the table beside her cauldron. When she turned to face Severus, he took a step forward, first examining her work.

"Very good, Hermione. Quite impressive, indeed. This is one of the more difficult potions to brew, and it appears you have performed exceptionally well," he said, and he could tell she was swelling with pride. "Open your textbook, and follow the directions there. Come to me when you are finished."

Hermione did as instructed, opening her book. There, the instructions for the varying subtypes of the fire protection potion guided her through the process. It took her about two hours to complete the task. As she was removing her apron, Severus descended the stairs to check on her progress.

"Severus," she said. "I believe I'm finished. Do you want to take a look?"

Severus swept across the room to her workstation. He lifted each vial, one by one, examining the contents within. It seemed with each sample he grew more pleased, his black eyes glittering in satisfaction. Hermione rocked on the balls of her feet as her mentor examined her work, growing apprehensive as each minute ticked by. It seemed like eons of silence had passed before Severus had finally reached the last vial, lifting it into his hands and considered its contents carefully.

"Hermione, you have done very well," he said finally, setting the vial down. "Quite well, indeed."

Her face broke into a huge smile, quite pleased with the praise. "Thank you very much, Severus!" she exclaimed. "I'm going to finish my notes here, and then I'll clean up."

He vacated the basement, ascending the stairs to the main floor of his home. Hermione bent over a long roll of parchment, hurriedly scrawling her notes, the smile never leaving her face.


	17. Chapter 17

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 17**

As planned, Severus did indeed visit a potion parlor to purchase the ingredients that had been taken from his stores. Hermione decided to stay behind, as to avoid any inconvenient encounters with acquaintances that would recognize them both. Severus thought her consideration was rather clever, as even he did not think of such a possibility, though it was very real – especially at Diagon Alley!

Severus ventured to Diagon Alley, visiting the apothecary there. As he entered the shop, a small bell jingled above his head, and he nodded curtly to the cashier who greeted him with a wave. The Potions Master perused the shelves, searching for the ingredients he needed, and as he found them, he plucked them off the shelf and tucked them into his pocket.

"Ah, Severus," the clerk greeted as he approached the sales counter. "What can I do for you?"

Severus placed the jars atop the counter. "I also need an Ashwinder egg," he said softly, the irritation apparent in his voice.

The clerk nodded. "Ah, yes, just a moment." He disappeared into a back room, to emerge moments later with a frosty container, his hands protected by gloves.

"Here you are, Severus," he said, setting the heavy container down. As he calculated the cost, Severus dropped some coins into his hand. "Good day!"

From there, Severus quickly Disapparated to his home. He placed the package on the kitchen table, his voice a low grumble as he spoke. "When I find out who was the perpetrator behind this, I will have them expelled."

Hermione had been seated in the sitting room, tucked into her ancient runes textbook, when he arrived with a loud _crack!_. Startled, she dropped her book, but upon hearing her lover's oily voice, she rose from the chair to greet him in the kitchen.

She leaned up to kiss him. "So you really don't believe it was – what was her name, Katrina?" Hermione asked.

Severus shook his head. "I don't. I believe she was accused as a distraction."

Hermione frowned, dissatisfied with the fact that they, once again, had no leads on who was stealing from Severus' stores. "Do you think this is the same person as before?"

"Indeed, I do," Severus replied. She returned to her reading as Severus packaged the vials together and carried them downstairs to be transported with the rest of his supplies.

By the end of their holiday, Hermione and Severus had spent most of their time confined to his rooms. Hermione did not ache to leave the house, which surprised her; she very much enjoyed remaining in the warmth of Severus' home, either entangled in the sheets with her lover or perched upon his lap with a book. She hadn't ever had a quiet holiday before, and while she thought perhaps it would be nice to have some excitement every now and then for Christmas, she preferred the quiet life that Severus seemed to lead.

They chose to stand by their original alibi and so they would travel by Floo to the school. Hermione stood before the fireplace, Severus' hands on her hips. He kissed her neck delicately as she spoke her destination ("Private Quarters of Professor Severus Snape, Hogwarts") and disappeared with a burst of green fire. She appeared seconds later in Severus' library, and Severus emerged moments after with Hermione's things.

Hermione and Severus exchanged a passionate kiss before she abandoned him for the Great Hall. As Head Girl, her responsibilities included rounding up the younger students (who would, no doubt, be exhilarated to be back at school and therefore acting out, as children often do) and, with the Prefects, leading them back to their common rooms following the New Year's feast.

As Hermione shouldered her bag, she cast one last loving look at Severus, before heading through the door to his office. As he heard the distant slam of the classroom door, he swept to his bed. Sitting down, he smoothed his hand across the blankets. The joy he had felt during the break was slowly dissolving as he sat alone in his rooms, and he leaned back against the pillows at the head of his bed.

He too, would have to head to the Great Hall for the return feast, but it would not begin for quite some time. And so he remained resting on his bed, his hands behind his head, his mind whirling with the events of the holiday break.

* * *

><p>Hermione first entered her private rooms. Her cat, Crookshanks, was nowhere in sight, and she assumed it was because he was still scouring the halls, hunting for pests to consume. She never worried for him while she was on break; he was a resourceful cat, as all felines were, and would do fine on his own.<p>

After dropping off her bag, she hurried down to the Great Hall. There were few students here, as the train had not yet arrived. The students in the hall, while they did not comprise all of those who remained for break, were the few who had not gone home to their families. Professors Trelawney, Babbling, and Binns were already seated at the High Table, overseeing the students and conversing amongst themselves.

Hermione surveyed the Great Hall, examining each student that was present. She spotted a lone first year at Gryffindor table, and took a seat down next to him. He had looked forlorn as he sat there, his friends having left on the holiday, and Hermione sought to relieve him of his lonesome for a moment before visiting with the other students.

When she sat down next to him, he looked absolutely delighted to have someone to talk to.

"Happy New Year, Ken," Hermione said cheerfully.

The young blond boy returned her greeting, and began to explode with all of the details of what had happened at the castle while he was there for break (which, Hermione hated to admit, was nothing compared to what she had experienced during her time at school during the holidays). She answered enthusiastically, giving the boy a hug before moving to a different table to talk to another student.

As she was making her rounds, various professors entered the Great Hall. They greeted each of the students who were present before making their way to the High Table. As she was passing between the tables, she collided with another body, the impact nearly knocking her off her feet. She caught her balance and turned to face the perpetrator.

"Perhaps you should pay more attention to where you are going, Miss Granger," crooned his oily voice. "Lest your incessant babbling conflict with your ability to walk and you land in the hospital wing."

As he spoke, she recognized the glitter in his eyes that he only possessed for her; she suspected their collision was at least partially intentional, and she tried to conceal her smile. She apologized for bumping into him, and he swept past her, taking a seat at the High Table beside the tallest-backed chair, where Dumbledore usually sat. It was not much longer before the remaining professors took their seats and waited patiently for the arrival of the students.

Suddenly there was a stampede of footsteps entering the hall, and students poured in. There was quite a commotion as the students filed past each other, bumping and pushing, to get to their house tables. The hall was a cacophony of voices, footsteps, and screeching chairs, and it seemed it only grew louder as more and more students filed in.

Hermione weaved between students to get to Gryffindor table. She was delighted to see Harry and Ron, already seated, with an open spot next to the red-headed Weasley for Hermione. She plopped down indelicately.

"'Oi, 'Mione!" Ron greeted.

Harry, too, was all smiles as his friend sat down at the table. She greeted them both in kind, wishing them a belated happy Christmas, and thanking them for their gifts. The boys thanked her as well for the gifts they received.

"How was your break?" she asked them, her fingers twisting the sapphire ring below the cover of the table.

"Oh, you know," Ron replied.

"It's like pulling teeth, you know," Hermione scowled. She looked to Harry, who shrugged.

"It was pretty uneventful, Hermione. Honest!" he exclaimed, a sneaky smile crawling across his mouth.

They began chattering about anything and everything excitedly. It took several more minutes before all of the students and teachers filed into the hall, and once everyone had taken a seat, Dumbledore rose.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts!" he exclaimed, and there was a cacophony of cheers from the students. With a wave of his hand, delicious food appeared on the tables. "I hope you all had a wonderful, delightful break, and that you all are refreshed and ready to return to the routine of wizarding education!"

The students, to this, had groaned. Dumbledore did not hesitate to invite them to begin their meals, and the hall exploded into a thousand different conversations as everyone tucked into their dinner.

* * *

><p>Following breakfast the following Monday morning, Severus decided he would pull aside the student who had been (as Severus believed, falsely) accused of pilfering his stores. She had a class with him that morning, and rather than do as Dumbledore had decided, Severus planned on confronting the problem. If she had, indeed, actually stolen the ingredients, he would be able to tell – and if she had not, he could instead focus his attention on identifying the true perpetrator.<p>

Standing at the head of his classroom, he watched his nervous fourth year students enter the dungeon. Miss Filthrum was accompanied by her friends, and they were chatting happily, though about what, Severus neither knew nor cared.

"Miss Filthrum," Snape growled. The girl, who had been busy opening her textbook and pulling her quill from her bag, looked up suddenly. "I would like to see you in my office at the end of class."

He knew that her reaction to his request would be the first tell-tale sign if she was guilty. If she had indeed stolen from him, his request would cause in her anxiety, and he knew her well enough to know that she was not one to conceal her anxieties well. When she looked at him curiously, rather than nervously, he knew then that she was unlikely the thief.

"O-okay, Professor Snape," she replied to him.

As Snape began the lesson, he kept his eye on her. Her friends had looked at her, as though just as confused as to why the Potions Master wanted her in his office. She shrugged at them, mouthing an 'I have no idea,' and turning to her desk to follow his lecture.

As the class ended, Severus turned on his heel and swept into his office. Sitting behind his desk, he waited for his student to enter. Her behaviors were highly predictable; she was a quiet, timid student who performed decently in his class (though she was far from exceptional) and, for the most part, would go unnoticed. She preferred it that way. Sometimes he wondered why she had been sorted into Slytherin, as opposed to Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, but he knew that the Sorting Hat saw things in its wearers that were not apparent to others.

It took a moment before Filthrum knocked on his office door, and as she entered, she nervously poked her head into the room. She was a rather plain student, really; not unlike Hermione, she concerned herself more with academia than her appearance. She was no comparison to Hermione's brilliance though, and Severus knew it would be a long time before another student such as his apprentice would ever grace the halls of Hogwarts.

"Take a seat," Severus said, his black eyes piercing her.

She slowly sat down across from him, and Snape did not overlook her white-knuckle grasp on her bag. She was reasonably nervous, as students always abhorred coming to Snape's office. He did not expect her to be calm and collected while there, but she was not displaying the guilty anxiety he would expect if she had actually stolen from him.

Severus considered her carefully, and she shifted under his gaze. He could tell she was considering asking why she was called to his office, and once or twice she opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it and said nothing.

"I have reason to suspect that you are the student who broke into my stores," Severus began icily.

Her expression morphed from nervousness to shock. "What?"

Snape had suspected that she was definitely not the thief, and as he watched her mind whirl, he came to know that as fact. Her voice was shaky, but calm.

"No, Professor Snape… I didn't steal from you," she stammered. "I… I can't prove it, but I didn't do it."

He folded his hands across his desk, staring at her levelly. She held his gaze, though a thin sheet of sweat was forming across her brow. Her hands were trembling as she gripped her bag tighter.

"And, pray tell, Miss Filthrum – why should I believe you?"

She glanced around the room, her eyes lingering on the peculiar specimen within the jars around her. She shook her head. "You… you have no reason to, Professor. But… I didn't do it. I have no reason to have done it!"

"Is that your argument? You 'have no reason'?" His voice was scathing.

"I don't even know how to brew that potion," she said, trying to steady her voice. "It's way beyond my level."

His steady, piercing gaze told her he did not believe her. Her eyes scanned the room as though she was visually searching for a better argument. Her anxiety was increasing as she realized unless she could prove it to the Potions Master, she was likely to be expelled.

"I didn't do it," she gasped. "I don't know how to prove it to you, but I didn't do it! Professor Snape, you know I wouldn't do that! Why would I risk expulsion for no reason? I don't have a boyfriend! What use do I have for those ingredients?"

"Have you any idea who may have?" he growled, leaning back in his chair.

As she realized his suspicion was beginning to wane, she visibly relaxed. Breathing a sigh, she shook her head. "N-no… but… I can ask my friends. They may know something."

Severus shook his head. "No, Miss Filthrum. That will be unnecessary." He hadn't the slightest doubt that this girl was indeed innocent. Standing from his desk, he dismissed her. She clutched her bag and rushed from the room.

* * *

><p>As promised, that afternoon Severus assigned Hermione one of four difficult, long draughts she would be crafting for her final examination in her apprenticeship. The recipe, the Draught of Life (not to be confused with the Elixir of Life, a much more sinister creation, in Hermione's opinion), would require five months of preparation. It was a healing potion; if a person was fatally wounded, they could consume the draught and it would place their body in a resting state, preserving it until medical attention was given.<p>

Hermione opened Severus's _Moste Potente Potions_ and began to read the chapter about the draught. In an hour, she had finished, and she turned to Severus, who had been sitting at his desk, quietly observing her. Because her apprenticeship was now nearly half-over, the Potions Master had ceased setting out her supplies for her. He waved his hand, and the wards to his stores lowered.

Hermione retrieved the appropriate ingredients, pulling out a cauldron and setting to work. As she pulled on her apron, she ignited the flame beneath the cauldron, allowing it to heat up before she began working. She was absorbed in her work until well past midnight; Severus let her be for the most part, only hovering on a few occasions when he knew she was coming to a rather difficult task. She rarely needed his help that evening however, and by eleven o'clock he was seated by her table, observing her as she worked.

At one point in the night, she removed her gloves to rub her tired eyes. Severus leaned towards her, his voice soft as he spoke: "My dear, if you so desire you may rest. You have done just about all you can tonight."

"Yes, I know," she stifled a yawn. "Let me just…" Another yawn. "…clean up."

Severus stood from his chair to assist with her tidying up. He collected several vials and replaced them in the storage closet, as Hermione took to preserving her potion. It would need to set for forty-eight hours before she could do anymore to it, and so she moved the cauldron to a dusty corner, covered it, and closed the laboratory door.

Severus was leaning against the doorjamb of his office, casually. As she was closing the laboratory door, it grew colder as the wards activated, and she turned to face him. She covered a yawn, and it triggered a sympathetic yawn from the Potions Master. Without speaking, Severus turned from the doorway into his office, and Hermione followed suit.

Slowly closing the door to his rooms, Severus turned towards Hermione. His finger played delicately at the waist of her jeans, pulling open the clasp. They fell to her ankles in a whisper. She stepped out of them, raising her arms above her head as Severus removed her shirt. Standing in her undergarments, she shivered in the cool room. Severus pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply, and she fumbled with his own robes.

They fell off his shoulders effortlessly, and he led her to his bed. They collapsed there, devouring each other in passion. She straddled his hips with her thighs, grinding her hot core against his throbbing member. His lips were at her breast, suckling gently, as her wet folds rubbed luxuriously against his shaft. He pushed his member at his entrance, and she lowered her body onto him. He gasped as her tightness surrounded him, throbbing gently against his hardened manhood. She rode him slowly, his eyes following the succulent bounce of her breasts.

Hermione woke as the sun was rising. She wished with all her being she could remain in Severus' bed, but she knew she had to retreat to her own rooms to shower and ready herself for her classes that day. She rolled over to face her lover, kissing his hooked nose sweetly. His dark eyes flickered open at the touch.

"Leaving?" his voice was gruff with sleep.

She had stood from the bed, gathering her clothing he had haphazardly discarded during the fray. She turned to him.

"Yes," she said simply. She pulled her fingers through her disheveled hair, tying it back into a messy ponytail. "I'll see you at breakfast?"

Severus had rolled over to his side, away from her. He answered with a grunt, and she smiled. She leaned over the bed and kissed his ear gently, pulling her fingers through his black hair. Suddenly, Hermione felt rather mischievous; she crawled into bed once more with him, snaking her hand around his hip to his groin. She was surprised to discover that he was already hard, and with a smile, she wrapped her fingers around him. She was determined to make love to Severus one last time before the day began.

She didn't see the corner of his mouth tug into a small smile; his lack of response did not discourage her any. In fact, he wagered, it may have actually encouraged her more, as she began stroking him faster and tighter, eliciting a pleasured groan from the man.

Finally, he turned over to face her. He slowly moved his fingers to her wetness, stroking her there gently. He climbed over her, his body forcing her thighs to part. He buried his face into her neck, kissing and suckling the skin gently, the tender flesh turning red under his touch.

"And you accuse me of being insatiable," he growled into the curve of her neck.

Hermione gasped as he pushed his way into her, filling her. He thrust within her rhythmically, slowly at first. She pushed her hips into him, pulling him as far into her as he could go, releasing a loud cry of pleasure. Her hands were clawing at his back, leaving pink trails down the pale skin.

Hungrily, he suckled her breasts as he thrust into her, eliciting a soft moan from his lover. He increased his speed, pumping faster and faster until she cried out in climactic release. The spasm of her core around his member caused him to orgasm as well, and he spilled his seed within her.

Severus' thrusting slowed. He pressed his forehead against hers, looking into the amber depths of her eyes. She couldn't help but smile at him. Slowly, she snaked her arms around his waist, pulling his body to hers. He turned to his side, coiling his arms around her, and they lay there in his bed, tangled together.

After a few moments of silence, Hermione looked up at him. "Severus, I've been thinking."

It seemed as though he was drifting off the brink of wakefulness, as his response was slow and quiet, and hardly a word. "Hm?"

"I'm eighteen," she began slowly. "My birthday was before… well, you know." There was an uncomfortable pause, and Severus lifted onto his elbow to look at her. "By all laws, I am the age of consent."

He narrowed her eyes as he listened to her. She continued: "I don't think we should mention the… rape," she said quietly. "But… what if we confessed to Professor Dumbledore our relationship? What if he believed it to have progressed naturally from spending a great deal of time together?"

Severus chuckled at her naïveté. Certainly, in theory, it seemed the rational thing to do. If her logic was infallible, they could knock on Albus' office door that evening and confess to him everything: that they had grown closer throughout the apprenticeship, and their relationship developed into a sexual one. They need not make any mention of the roots of their sexuality; that their sexual relationship evolved from a vicious rape of the student. If her rationale were realistic, there would be no threat to Severus' position within the safety of Hogwarts.

It was true that Albus highly respected Hermione's capabilities as a young woman. She was more than mature enough to make such a severe decision as to engage in sexual intercourse with her professor. It was true that she would be able to handle the repercussions of her actions, and do so with grace; she was mature enough, that if they indeed decided the relationship should end, she could continue with her apprenticeship without a second thought and finish the school year.

He followed her logic with ease. What she was saying made absolute sense.

What she wasn't considering was that Albus Dumbledore was an incredibly powerful Legilimens. Confessing to him their relationship would give him grounds to determine if she was lying, and in that moment the truth would be revealed.

"Hermione," Severus began quietly. "Have you forgotten that Professor Dumbledore is a Legilimens, and a very powerful one at that?"

Hermione understood immediately what Severus was suggesting, and she frowned. "Oh, I guess I hadn't considered that… would he—"

"Professor Dumbledore and I are the only two Legilimens in the school," Severus explained. "When one of the other professors has suspicion that a student is being deceitful, it is suggested that either Albus or I interrogate the student, and determine whether or not they are honest. It needs to be approved by Dumbledore because performing Legilimency on a student is a severe violation of privacy." Severus paused, reclining onto the mattress. "I believe that if we were to inform him of our relationship, he would not hesitate to use Legilimency to confirm that what we are saying is true."

"Why wouldn't he simply believe us?" Hermione asked.

"It may not be that he blatantly distrusts us, my dear," Severus crooned, his dark eyes scanning the ceiling. "But that he must ensure that I have not swayed you to neglect reporting what I have done to you."

Severus understood completely the reasons why Albus would question their story. After all, Professor Snape had, on several occasions, insisted that the three of them be expelled from the school, had accused them of breaking school rules (even when they had not), and had openly displayed his dislike for Hermione Granger in the past (for being a know-it-all, eager to argue with Severus during class if she thought he was wrong). He had openly confessed that she had irked him so, and that if she weren't the only valuable mind he had in his classes he would gladly turn her away completely.

So to suddenly reveal to the Headmaster that his Potions Master was engaging in sex with Hermione Granger may raise some questions in the old wizard's mind, questions only suitably answered by performing Legilimency.

Hermione had a wrinkle pressed into her normally smooth forehead as she thought. She looked frustrated: she clearly disliked the fact that Severus was forced to lie to his friend, and she was looking for a way to relieve that stress on her lover. But to no avail.

"I don't believe he would feel as though he needed to remove me from the premises, if our relationship had developed naturally," Severus said softly. "But if we risk him performing Legilimency on you, then the very thing you wanted to avoid in the first place becomes a stark reality. And the struggles you endured would have been for nothing."

Hermione nodded sadly. "I understand."

"However," Severus started, his voice soft. "I had been considering training you in Occlumency, for this very reason."

Hermione's expression changed at this suggestion, and she nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!"

"I warn you, Hermione – Occlumency training requires that I perform Legilimency on you, which exposes you to me mercilessly. I will have access to all of your memories," he cautioned.

"I understand, Harry explained to me what it had been like for him," she replied.

"I pray that your admirable skill within the classroom can be applied to these lessons as well," Severus growled, his voice suddenly low. It seemed he was recalling the lessons he gave Harry, and he did not seem pleased at all. "Your friend did not learn the skill as quickly as would have been preferred."

Hermione smiled, nodding. "Yes, I know. He… didn't really try to learn, I don't think… he had a lot going on that year."

They were quiet for a moment; Severus was considering something, Hermione could tell, though what, she did not know. She looked at him, the proverbial wheels turning in his mind, and when he spoke, she listened intently.

"We will work Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, until you have mastered the skill," Severus said. "Following your classes. If you are in need of working on your apprenticeship project, we will postpone the Occlumency lesson. Your apprenticeship projects take priority, of course. Otherwise, I expect you to be in my classroom at four o'clock."

Hermione nodded. "Starting today?"

"Indeed," Severus replied, sitting up in the bed. "You should go."

Standing from the bed, Hermione dressed quickly and kissed Severus. He took her by the hips, pulling her into the bed with him once more. She laughed, pulling out of his embrace, her voice shrill.

"Severus! I have to go!" she exclaimed.

His lips were curled slyly as she abandoned the room. As he heard the distant slam of his classroom door, he rose from his bed and approached his lavatory.

* * *

><p>Hermione hated to admit that she was rather disappointed classes had to resume following break. Even though she had already attended classes, the feeling did not subside. She was eager to learn, and yet she felt more excited to remain by Severus' side throughout the days (and shamelessly, at times, wished to remain in his bed even more frequently). If the only thing she did for the rest of her life was potioneering, she thought she could deal with that, and quite happily.<p>

Her path to the Arithmancy classroom was fairly vacant, as Arithmancy was a fairly unpopular course at the N.E.W.T. level. The class had been challenging enough at the O.W.L. level (especially for an elective), and when Hermione passed her Arithmancy O.W.L. exam with an "Outstanding," she was one of the few students who would be able to progress to the N.E.W.T. level course.

It seemed, as much as she abhorred the man, Draco Malfoy, too, was a very talented student. He was one of the few classmates in her Arithmancy class, and while she made a habit of keeping her distance from the Slytherin, she could not help but admire his intelligence. His intellect did not distract her from the true nature of his character, however, and whenever she caught sight of him, she grew nauseous.

As she took her seat in the Arithmancy classroom, she watched as few other students filed in with their bags over their shoulders. Malfoy was the last to stride in, his pointed face donning the typically-Malfoy smug look. His cold, grey eyes passed over her as if she weren't even there. Considering how much attention he had been paying her over the semester, his behavior seemed a bit odd to her.

Professor Vector hurried into the classroom, greeting her students before beginning the day's lesson. Hermione began scrawling notes hurriedly onto a piece of parchment as the lecture progressed.

An hour later, she dismissed the students, and Hermione packed her things into her backpack and rose. She was surprised when she was pushed out of the way, and as she stumbled over her desk, she turned to see who had run into her. No surprise to her, Malfoy had intentionally knocked her into the desk, and was sniggering quietly as he left the classroom.

She had just about enough of his antics this semester, and seethed quietly as she followed the last student out of the classroom. With lunch rapidly approaching, she was looking forward to seeing her friends, and talking with them about their first two days back to classes.

Following Arithmancy, Hermione had History of Magic, which, while fascinating, was very hard to maintain attention through on that Tuesday morning. She was elated when Professor Binns finally allowed the students to depart, and Hermione hurried to the Great Hall to eat lunch with her friends.

The two boys were already seated at the table, and from where Hermione was standing, it appeared they were having quite the heated debate over something (which she assumed to be Quidditch). As she took her seat next to Harry, the two boys did not break from their discussion. When finally it seemed Ron was too frustrated to argue further, he tucked into his lunch, and Harry turned to Hermione.

"Hey, Hermione," the young wizard said. "I think this is the first I've seen you since yesterday!"

"Yes," she agreed. "I was working very late last night, Professor Snape has just begun assigning my final projects and they take quite a lot of time to brew!"

"Wow, already?" Ron interjected. "It's January!"

"As I said, they take a very long time to complete. He's just started me on the Draught of Life" – to this, her friends gawked, but she corrected their thinking – "not the elixir, it has nothing to do with the Sorcerer's Stone. It's a healing potion, but it requires about five months to brew."

Ron shook his head. "I don't get how you could possibly enjoy working with that git," he grumbled, his mouth full of food. "We never see you anymore!"

Hermione grimaced as the threat of flying food particles became a reality as Ron spoke. She leaned away from the table. "I know, but he really isn't that bad," she said, frowning. Peering up at the High Table, she caught the eye of the sallow-skinned Potions Master.

Her friends followed her gaze, and when they met the fathomless gaze of the Potions Master, they broke eye contact quickly. Hermione turned from him as well, allowing the professor to return to his meal.

"I still think you're bloody mad, 'Mione," Ron said. "We don't have half the work you do."

"I expected it, Ron. I sought for it, truly," she replied.

They were quiet for a moment as they chewed their food. She could tell Ron was mulling something over, and after he finished his troll-sized bite, he gestured as though to say something. Hermione looked at him expectantly, but he seemed to reconsider his actions, and instead focused carefully on his meal.


	18. Chapter 18

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 18**

Hermione's first Occlumency lesson was that afternoon following her Herbology class. She promptly reported to the dungeons, having stopped by the library to borrow a few books on the subject. As she reached the classroom door, she pushed it open slightly, to find Severus sitting behind his desk. It looked as though his last class of the day had run over its time by several minutes, as there were students hurriedly scrawling notes onto their parchment.

At the sound of the door creaking open, Severus' gaze flickered to Hermione. He narrowed his eyes and stood abruptly, the screech of the feet of his chair against the stone floor startling the students before him.

"Miss Granger," Severus said silkily.

She wasn't sure if that was an invitation to enter the classroom, but she slipped in regardless, slowly closing the door behind her. The Potions Master stood behind his desk, seeming to tower over her even while she stood by the door. Nervously, she peered up at Severus through her bangs; suddenly she felt reduced to the nervous student she remembered being when he finally accepted her request for the apprenticeship in the first place.

"I do not believe I invited you to join my class," he said, icily. "Have you no restraint? Or do you simply believe that your needs are greater than those of the class?" His thin lip curled into a malicious sneer as her cheeks reddened.

The class of third years was watching the exchange with a mix of enjoyment and sympathy. As she looked to the class and then back to Severus, Hermione became infuriated with him for embarrassing her in such a way. After all, he did indeed request that she be present at four o'clock!

"This, class, is Hermione Granger. She is Head Girl of Hogwarts, and if I may so remark, an insufferable overachiever who thought it quite appropriate to interrupt your lesson," his voice was icy as he spoke. "Whatever it is you require, it can wait. I will meet you in my office in ten minutes, Granger."

Hermione nodded curtly, seething beneath her humiliation. She stormed into the office, closing the door quietly and fuming to herself as she waited for Severus. The audacity! He had not embarrassed her like that in years! And as Head Girl, in front of lower class students? She was furious.

She took a seat across from his desk, setting her things down beside her chair. She tried to rationalize that he was only protecting their relationship by humiliating her in such a way – she knew it maintained their façade quite well – but she couldn't help but feel as though he took it a step too far. His voice was a low mumble through the door as he spoke, and she assumed he was dismissing the class as she heard a rumble of feet as the students hurried from the classroom.

Seconds later, the office door creaked open, and Severus entered. He closed the door softly behind him, touching Hermione's shoulders with his hands and kissing the top of her head.

"Severus," she hissed, still seething. "How dare you!"

His eyebrows were raised in curiosity as he lowered himself into his chair. "Excuse me?"

"How dare you embarrass me like that! Why on Earth—why would you do that?" she demanded, her cheeks flushing violently.

Severus leaned forward on his desk. "Hermione, you interrupted my class."

"You told me to be here at four. It's not my fault that your class ran late, I did not deserve that!" she argued.

Severus' lips paled as he grew impatient with her insolence. "Perhaps you are confused, Hermione. My life does not revolve around your schedule. I may have told you to arrive at four o'clock, but that does not mean despite what may be going on behind my classroom door, you may enter at your own discretion. If I have a class, despite whether it is running late, you are not to interrupt."

Hermione's brow was furrowed in anger, and her hands were shaking. "That wasn't fair, Severus!"

"Perhaps you should have considered your actions before behaving, then," Severus said softly. "Despite where you retire at night, I am still your professor and you will show me due respect. Have you no idea the irreverence of your behavior just now?"

Hermione stood from her chair, her frustration too much to keep bottled up. She began to pace. "Severus, I am Head Girl, and you just completely humiliated me in front of a class of younger students!"

"I fail to see how that is my problem," Severus replied, his face aloof, his voice cold.

She turned to him, shocked at his coldness. Her cheeks lost their reddish color as she stared at him, awed. "How can you—"

"You are my student, Hermione. It is of no consequence to our public relationship whether you have woken beside me that morning. Nothing has changed between you and I when we are in the presence of others, and you should know as much," he said. "If, for whatever reason, I have a class that is running late – you are _not_ to interrupt to begin your own private lessons. I reacted appropriately given the situation. You are acting irrationally."

She was pacing before his desk, her frustration very apparent. Her hands had not ceased shaking in her anger.

"Sit down, it is time for your lesson to begin," he ordered.

She suddenly felt as though he was nothing but her teacher after all, and a knot was tying itself inside of her. She slowly lowered herself to her chair. She knew Severus had an incredible ability to suppress his emotions when needed, which is precisely why he had survived so long as an agent – but how could he expect her to do the same?

"In the beginning of your lessons, you will need to simply empty your mind of everything. You must not think, nor feel, as I am attempting to penetrate your mind," Severus began. "As your lessons progress, you will learn how to suppress just the thoughts and emotions relevant to the lie you are telling, so that a Legilimens will not be able to decipher the contradicting details in your mind." He stood from his desk. "These lessons will take place in my private laboratory."

Hermione followed him through the classroom to the laboratory where her workstation was set. He swept to the back of the lab, Hermione following close behind. As he turned on her, his robes billowed about him. She felt strange in this situation; he was acting very professional, and she almost believed that he felt nothing for her. She knew, somewhere within her, that the reason he was acting so distant was because of the nature of the lessons, but his aloofness still stung.

"I am going to attempt to enter your mind," Severus' voice was soft as he spoke. "You must empty your mind of all thought, of all emotion. Are you ready?"

Hermione paused for a moment, briefly thinking it was rather unfair that he immediately begin her training after sparking such emotion within her. She nodded slowly. "Yes."

She was apprehensive, and with good reason: Hermione had always struggled with skills that were not readily learned from reading, and Occlumency fell into that category of skills. Her mind was always whirling with busy thoughts, and while she easily compartmentalized areas of her life in order to focus on matters at hand, she still found it difficult to quiet her mind.

He raised his wand, and Hermione stood still, watching him. With all of her strength, she willed her thoughts and emotions to vanish.

"_Legilimens_!"

Hermione felt a surge of memories erupt from the innermost corners of her brain, images swimming in her memories that were as lush and real as if she had just walked away from them.

_Two children were playing together in a sandbox when a young boy threw sand in the face of his playmate. With sand in her eyes, the young girl – Hermione, no older than seven – began crying and kicking her feet, and from a nearby bench, her concerned mother began rushing to her side. Suddenly, the young boy was lifted into the air and tossed out of the sandbox into the grass. The concerned mother stopped in her tracks, staring at her daughter in awe…_

_The scene disappeared, and suddenly Hermione was standing at her kitchen counter, talking with her father, when they heard a quiet knock at the door. Bouncing into the entranceway, Hermione pulled open the door to reveal a stern-looking woman with dark hair and long flowing green robes. Cautiously, Hermione called to her father, who rose from the kitchen and came to stand behind his daughter._

"_Hello, Mr. Granger," the woman said kindly. "And hello, Miss Hermione Granger. My name is Minerva McGonagall. May I come in?"_

Hermione broke Severus' invasion, leaning back into the table behind her. "I—I'm sorry," she began.

"You _must_ focus, Hermione," he replied, disregarding her apology. "_Legilimens_!"

_Hermione and Ron were sitting alone on his bed at the Burrow. They were talking harmlessly about nothing in particular, Ron's hand resting nervously on her leg. She blushed as his hand slowly crept up to her face, touching the soft skin there gently. He leaned into her, kissing her. His weight pushed her back onto his bed, her lips parting to grant his tongue access to her mouth…_

Severus, this time, was the one to break the spell. Hermione lowered herself to the floor, her breathing heavy, struggling to fight his penetrative force. His lip was curled in revulsion as he stared down his hooked nose at her. Her face was bright red as she looked up at him through her bangs.

"Are you even trying?" he hissed. Irrationally, perhaps, Severus was not expecting to witness the memories he had, and her time spent with Weasley incensed him with jealousy. His loathing was apparent in his voice.

"Yes, I'm trying! And I've read on this – but it's very hard, Severus!" she cried, her face a lighter shade of pink now.

"Try _harder_," he growled. "_Legilimens_!"

_Hermione was tucked into a book at the library. A tall, sallow young man, wearing the robes from Durmstrang Institute, touched her hand gently, distracting her, his dark eyes watching her closely. She looked up at him, only to catch his lips with hers. She blushed, and, inexperienced as she was, simply kissed him back. When she felt his tongue press against her lips, she slowly parted them, allowing him in, though awkward as it was. The kiss only lasted a few seconds before Hermione broke away, blushing furiously…_

Hermione fell to her knees. "Severus, this is so hard. I'm sorry."

Severus' face was twisted into an awful grimace, the jealousy rising within him. He wanted to see no more of Hermione's prior romances, as the revelation was souring his mood. He knew not why he felt so jealous of the boys – he had something they never could, now – and the unknowing was what bothered him so. As he stared at her crumpled form, he tried to calm his nerves.

"Clear your mind, Hermione," Severus said, his voice harsh. "_Legilimens_!"

_Terror. She heard the classroom door slam and lock. _

"_No, no, please!" she cried, buried beneath the weight of her professor. He was forcing kisses on her face, and she was trying to push him away, but he was too heavy. "Please, please, don't!"_

_She was crying now, fighting against her attacker to no avail. He seemed inhuman to her in that moment, and as he tore off her clothing, she cried out in shame. She could see the lust sparkle in his black eyes. He grabbed violently at her breasts, and she cried out…_

Severus broke the spell, horrified and nauseated. He supported his weight on the table behind him, staring at Hermione, his face morphed into an expression of horror and guilt. Hermione hadn't realized it, but having had to relive that memory, she found herself crying. She touched her cheeks, surprised briefly that they felt wet. Looking up at Severus, she tried to smile – but only managed an awkward twitch of her cheek.

His hand cupped her face delicately, his eyes speaking volumes of words he couldn't verbalize. His heart ached for Hermione in that moment – and he had to admit, he was surprised that this lesson was as difficult for him to conduct as it proved to be. Foolishly, he had not prepared himself for the onslaught of her emotional past. She was barely eighteen; before her time with him, she had been pure. Her most emotional memories would be those of her first experiences with boys, or her realization she was a witch. Or… _him_.

"Once you are ready," his tone of voice had completely changed, as though witnessing his assault of her through his eyes triggered intense sympathy in the man.

After steeling herself for a moment, Hermione nodded. With each subsequent attempt, she showed slight improvement. At first, she was able to close off the memory after he had triggered it. Slowly, she managed to suppress the emotional memories, revealing to him only the tedious memories, typically of her preparing for exams. By the end of their first night, she was able to control what memories he tapped into, and while she had far from mastered the art of Occlumency, she proved her ability to perform.

He was not surprised of the progress she showed, and how rapidly she seemed to gain. Though Occlumency was not a subject readily learned from a textbook, he was fairly certain her eagerness to read up on the subject and study it thoroughly before their lessons contributed to her ability.

Hermione did not show much interest in returning to his rooms with him that night, and he thoroughly understood. She felt as though her privacy had been unduly invaded, and he would not be surprised if she was rather offended by him at the time. He had accessed some of her most personal, most emotional memories, some he had wish he had not witnessed – and she felt the same. It did not help that his reaction was sour, irritable – as though it was her fault he had accessed what he had.

She kissed him sweetly before departing for the evening. It would be the first night in a long time that Hermione had not stayed with him. After she left, he turned on his heel and retired to his private quarters.

Hermione hurried to her own personal rooms, as well. She was quite shaken from that first Occlumency lesson, and while she knew she had made some progress, she couldn't help but wonder if perhaps she had made a mistake. He was accessing thoughts of hers that she was not prepared yet to share with him – she remembered Harry mentioning that, how he felt as though Severus was invading the innermost depths of his privacy.

Pushing open the door to her quarters, she released a sigh. There were some things that should remain private at all costs; the fact that Severus was able to watch her intimate moments with Ron felt like a complete violation. And yet, she understood that it was mostly her fault he was able to access those memories in the first place.

Hermione headed straight for her lavatory. She couldn't quite explain it, but she felt the strongest urge to scrub her skin raw.

* * *

><p>The next morning seemed as though it approached far too soon. Hermione woke groggily, turning over in her bed to find her cat resting next to her head. She combed her fingers through his long orange fur, nestling her face into his belly.<p>

She had the aching suspicion that today would be a long day, indeed. As she readied herself, her mind was trailing along the events of last night. The Occlumency lessons had been exhausting, so much so she had almost forgotten how Severus had embarrassed her in front of his class. The thought caused anger to bubble up inside her, but she tried to quell it; he had a very reasonable case for acting as he did, and she knew such. She just really hated that he had done that to her at all.

She wondered if the memories he witnessed would change his opinion of her. He of course, had to have been prepared for the onslaught of her past. It would have only been expected given the lesson he was teaching her. He had no right to see her differently after witnessing the most emotional moments of her life, especially those involving other boys. She, on the other hand, was not so well-prepared for the invasion of privacy, and she hoped that her unease regarding the situation was to be anticipated.

Descending the stairs from her private rooms to the common room, Hermione searched for her friends. She was not surprised they were nowhere in sight (after all, it was quite early), and with nothing else to do, she retired to an armchair by the hearth and began to read.

Students slowly began emerging from the dormitories, chattering and yawning. Hermione turned to look at them, waiting for her friends to arrive. With about five minutes left to the beginning of breakfast, both boys descended the stairs, Harry looking as though he had just rolled out of bed, and Ron's freckled face mixed up into a yawn.

"Good mornin', Hermione," Harry said as she stood to meet them. "We usually don't see you here!"

Hermione smiled slightly, her cheeks reddening as she looked at Ron. If he only knew Severus had witnessed their intimate exchanges, how would he feel? She had decided that she would keep their Occlumency lessons private, as it seemed rather unusual that Professor Snape would willingly instruct a student in the skill, unless for a very good reason, as it seemed to be a very difficult skill to teach. Keeping a secret from Dumbledore did not seem like such a good reason, and if she had to explain to them why he was instructing her, the conversation may wander into territory she would rather not disclose.

She followed her friends to the Great Hall, which was busy and bustling with morning activity. Hermione eyed Severus at the High Table, but he did not notice her; he was quietly conversing with Professor Vector on his right, and seemed to be quite preoccupied with the discussion.

The Head Girl took her seat beside Ron, as Harry made his way around the table to sit down next to Ginny. He planted a kiss sweetly on her cheek before tucking into his breakfast meal. The conversation eventually turned to Quidditch, and with little for Hermione to contribute, she consumed her breakfast quietly, listening.

Their classes that day were fairly uneventful. Severus had sprung a surprise quiz on his seventh year class, at which the students were horrified. Hermione was actually quite surprised that she had no inkling of such a plan, but was quite glad for it. She could not rationalize any reasons why Severus would ever begin treating her differently in class, and she did not want him to. And even so, she excelled at the quiz, which would have come to shock no one.

His lecture was brief, and he sent them off to brew the day's potion. Hermione set straight to work, immersing herself in it and ignoring the outside world. Severus was pacing through the aisles, hovering over each student and observing them closely. As expected, he offered no words of encouragement to his non-Slytherin students, and when he came to his apprentice, he stopped and watched her closely.

She worked well under pressure, and she always had. As Severus towered over her, his black eyes surveying her closely, she did not falter – though his gaze was slightly grating. After a few moments, she looked up at him, expectantly.

His voice was low enough that only the nearest students could hear, and even then, they would have to strain. "Report to my office for lunch today."

Turning her head slightly, Hermione questioned his request. He ignored her, sweeping off to examine his other students. She watched him carefully, her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. She suspected she knew what he wished to discuss, and she was not looking forward to it.

* * *

><p>When class ended, Hermione hurried first to the Great Hall; she was positively famished, and wanted to grab a bite to eat to bring with her to Severus' office. She couldn't help but wonder what it was he wanted her there for, though her suspicions rested on their Occlumency lesson.<p>

She spotted her friends at Gryffindor table, and she paused at the table just long enough to explain she wouldn't be able to stay. When they questioned her, she could only answer as thoroughly as the reasons she had, which were truthfully none.

"Professor Snape wanted to see me in his office for lunch," she said simply, her shoulders shrugged. "I haven't the slightest idea why."

Ron frowned, feeling sympathetic towards his friend. "Good luck, mate."

She tucked a sandwich into her bag and waved farewell to her friends before hurrying to the dungeons. She weaved between students, dodging them as they filed into the Great Hall like a stampede. The lower in the castle she got, the fewer students she saw, until finally she reached the dungeons and there were only a few students shuffling away from the potions classroom.

Knocking on the office door, she waited. Severus invited her in with a low "come in," and she opened the door and slid inside. He was sitting behind his desk, his eyes quickly scanning the day's newspaper. She took a seat across from him, pulling out her lunch and beginning to eat.

It took a moment before Severus lifted his eyes to her. She had nearly finished her sandwich by the time he was ready to speak, and when he looked up at her, she set her meal down.

"Did you feel uncomfortable last evening?" he inquired suddenly, eyeing her closely.

She paused before answering, a bit surprised by his question. "Uhm… well, a bit, yes," she said quietly. "I knew what the lessons would entail, but I expected to master the skill easily."

"Occlumency is a very difficult form of magic," he replied. "It is obscure, it is uncommon, and yet it is possibly one of the most useful forms of magic. I expected you to struggle, but I had not anticipated what I would be able to access in you."

Hermione lowered her gaze to her hands. "Yes, I felt very violated, Severus."

"Let that be the driving force behind your success tomorrow evening, then," he said, his voice icy. "I believe that you will find the skill very useful in your future, beyond the reasons why we decided upon."

"I know," she said quietly. "I wanted to learn when Harry told me you were teaching him – he had no idea his fortune at the time, and it was so frustrating that he gave up so soon. I only wished to be him, then."

"Unlike your friend, you have remarkable skill and a certain determination. I am certain you will learn the task, but as you saw last evening, it is not an easy skill to acquire," he was fingering his wand as he spoke, watching her face. "And you will, most likely, reveal things to me you wished were kept private."

She nodded, slowly. "I know. Can I tell you something?" she suddenly felt quite childish, but she needed to ease her concerns.

"Anything, Hermione," Severus recognized the concern in her voice immediately, and set down his wand.

"I… I was very worried that after you had seen some of what you did, you would feel differently towards me," her cheeks reddened.

Severus could have laughed. When compared to the skeletons he had tucked away, her shameful memories were entirely innocent, at worst. There was nothing she could reveal to him that would change his opinion of her. She had no idea just the intensity of his love; he had loved Lily Evans since he had met her, and that was nearly thirty years ago.

"Hermione, a childhood tantrum or an adolescent rendezvous in a boy's bedroom is hardly shocking," he sneered. "I would be more concerned if you had not done those things."

Hermione's lips tugged into a smile. She leaned across the desk, kissing Severus. He pulled her onto his desk, deepening the gesture, his tongue exploring her mouth hungrily. She slowly leaned back on his desk, pulling him down to her, her legs straddling his hips. Something was stirring deep in her groin, and with time left on their lunch break, she sought to tend to it.

She snaked her hand below his belt, stroking his manhood through his robes. He was not hard, but it did not discourage her; she fumbled with his pants, opening them and exposing his underwear beneath them.

"Right now, Hermione?" he growled into her mouth.

"Please," she gasped, breathless as her arousal began overwhelming her.

He waved his hand at the office door, locking it with a quiet click. As his trousers fell to his ankles, Hermione stroked his hardening organ though the fabric of his underwear. He began to tug at her clothes, pulling her shirt over her head and grasping at her breasts with his rough, calloused hands.

Quite suddenly, she pushed him back from her, sliding off the desk and lowering to her knees before the Potions Master. He watched her as she slowly removed his underwear to expose his organ to her. She wrapped her fingers around the thick shaft, stroking it tightly. Severus tipped his head back as she stroked him, releasing a groan. He gasped as she took him into her mouth.

She would not be pleasuring him for very long without him reciprocating it. As he felt himself coming closer and closer to his climax, he pulled her up to him. Laying her back on his desk, he slid his fingers along her hot, wet folds. She gasped as he touched her, rubbing at her. Leaning down to her, he pressed a kiss to her mouth, positioning himself at her entrance.

She pulled him into her, the length of him plunging deep within her. She let out a pleasured moan, rocking her hips into him, encouraging him to thrust into her. His movements into her were long and forceful, pressing her into the desk below him. His mouth was next to her ear, moaning with each thrust until he released inside her, her name lingering on his lips.

Hermione felt much better following her meeting with Severus. She left him, her face a flustered smile and he watched her leave, standing in the doorway of the office. Turning on his heel, he breathed deeply: his office reeked of sex and Hermione, and he was quite glad for it. Taking a seat behind his desk, he smirked as he spotted the mess they left on his desk, waving his wand to tidy up the surface.

The things that girl did to him, he could never explain it. But Severus Snape was not a man to complain, and that would hold true for his relationship with Hermione Granger as well.


	19. Chapter 19

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
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**Chapter 19**

Several weeks had passed uneventfully as the school year resumed. Hermione worked nearly every evening with Severus, whether on her apprenticeship or Occlumency, and she spent nearly every night in his quarters with him. She had mastered sneaking from the dungeons to the Great Hall for breakfast, discovering the least-used pathways through the castle. She rarely ran into anyone in these halls, and when she did she was not questioned. Being Head Girl had many benefits, she came to find!

They had begun two of her four final projects. The Draught of Life, which would mature for another eight weeks before she could do anymore to it; and the Drink of Despair, which would require simmering over an open flame for six weeks before cooling for another four (Severus thought it worth mentioning that there is no exact method to brewing the Drink of Despair to date – the Dark Lord was thought to be the creator, though no one knew for certain, and many potioneers had been attempting to brew it themselves). The Drink of Despair would be Hermione's primary project for the end of the year, and together they would work on it, trying to perfect the draught.

As the news spread among the professors that Hermione was assisting Professor Snape with his own private research as a portion of her apprenticeship, she received much praise. One afternoon, while Hermione was rushing through the corridors to make it to her class on time, she was stopped by Professor McGonagall.

"Miss Granger," McGonagall's voice rang through the corridor. Stopping suddenly, Hermione turned to face her professor.

"Yes, Professor?" she replied, though a little breathless.

"Ah, Miss Granger, I'm glad to have caught you outside of class," she said, touching a hand to the Head Girl's shoulder. "How are your classes?"

"Oh, Professor McGonagall—" she was breathing easier now, and as she wiped a trickle of sweat from her brow, she smiled. "Just fine."

"I wanted to congratulate you," McGonagall said quickly, noticing Hermione's urgency and wishing to let her go. "I have just heard the news that Professor Snape has asked you specifically to assist him with some of his research. This is quite an honor indeed!"

"Oh—oh, thank you, Professor," Hermione said hurriedly. "Yes, we've just begun working on it, and it's quite fascinating!"

"Professor Snape is quite lucky to have you as an apprentice, Miss Granger!" McGonagall said.

Hermione's cheeks pinked furiously at her comment and she thanked McGonagall profusely before excusing herself and heading off to her class. McGonagall would not be the last professor to congratulate her on the opportunity to work with Severus on his own research, and she had run into Professors Flitwick, Binns, and Sinestra at different times during the following weeks, and each had many compliments to offer the Head Girl.

Hermione was improving greatly in their Occlumency lessons. Severus had a very difficult time indeed accessing her thoughts by the end of the first month of their training, and he was quite pleased with her improvement. It would not be long before they could talk with Professor Dumbledore about their relationship, which Hermione hoped would ease Severus' unnecessary stressors, and would also allow her to confess to her friends the true reasons why she had been so absent in their lives. She was very happy to be learning the skill, as well, for more practical applications than just misleading the Headmaster; she thought it to be a very useful thing to know (and it _had_ proven quite useful to Severus, after all, hadn't it?).

Hermione admitted that she felt quite bad about the lack of time she was spending with her friends, which seemed a recurring theme in her life at present. She would see them, at most, for meal times – and even that was infrequent. She, along with Severus, was often absent during lunch and dinner, reporting to the dungeons to (usually) converse with Severus, or sometimes to check on her projects.

The rest of her classes resumed with little event; the professors were beginning to prepare the students for their N.E.W.T. exams in June, along with lecturing on the relevant material. Hermione, who spent many hours in the evening working with Severus either on her project or her new secret skill, would remain awake into the very early morning hours to study for her other classes. Severus would often doze off beside her while she read from her textbooks or reviewed her notes from class. Her weekends were spent exclusively on her other classes, and when she had down time during her appointments with her mentor, she would study then as well.

Severus was being especially lenient considering he had told her, initially, he expected her to work only on her project while in his classroom. She knew it was primarily because, well, she _was_ Hermione Granger, and Severus Snape fell in love with her. She tried not to exploit his emotions, and always requested permission before diverging from her assignment, and he usually allowed her to.

He seemed to enjoy simply watching her work, whether it was an active investment such as alchemy or a passive activity such as studying. He would often times sit near her, his dark eyes simply observing her, occasionally reaching out to her to stroke her cheek gently or kiss her. If one were to have told Hermione that Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts, ex-Death Eater and double agent for the Order of the Phoenix, was capable of love, she would have thought them insane. But she had witnessed it first-hand – along with bearing witness to the harsh reality of the cruelty he was capable of – and she realized a long time ago that this man was only human. And he sought human needs, just as anyone else.

One cold, early February morning, Hermione returned to her private rooms to spend some time with Crookshanks during lunch. She was surprised when she found a package resting on her four-poster bed, wrapped in pretty green paper and tied neatly with a silver bow. She smiled to herself, figuring it was a surprise gift from Severus, and she sat down on her comfortable bed. She had to admit, surprises from the Potions Master were few and far between, which she thought perhaps made them all the more meaningful. Looking at the pretty sapphire ring which she had practically permanently affixed to her right ring finger, she smiled. Suddenly, her chest filled with joy.

Turning the gift over, she discovered it was a bit heavier than she expected. She lifted the package into her lap, pulling delicately at the ribbon. Severus was becoming quite the romantic, and she had no complaints. She had no clue this side existed to the man, of course – but she was not at all disappointed when exposed to it.

Hermione started pulling open the gift, careful not to rip the paper. Inside the box was a single bottle of elderflower wine. Hermione smiled to herself, and wondered briefly what about that particular wine reminded her lover of her. She drank it on occasion at the Weasleys, but surely Severus did not know that – or did he? She would not be surprised, given the amount of private memories he had accessed when training her in Occlumency.

She pulled the cork out of the bottle and sniffed the liquid inside. It smelled quite sweet, sweeter than Hermione remembered. She poured herself a small cup, just for a sip. It tasted tarter than she recalled as well, but it was more to her liking than to what she was accustomed. How her lover knew her tastes so well she would never know, but she would not protest!

She smiled, capping the bottle off once more and setting it beside her vanity. She folded the gift paper neatly and set it inside her luggage chest. As her lunch break came to an end, she gathered up her things and abandoned her rooms. She couldn't believe the thoughtfulness of Severus' gift, and made a mental note to thank him later.

As she approached the Arithmancy classroom, Hermione felt an intense tugging in her nether regions. The thought of Severus had been doing such strange things to her throughout the entire year. She experienced the greatest temptation to abandon her responsibilities for the day in order to make love to Severus for the rest of their waking hours. Resisting the urge to skip her class, knowing that Severus would be unable to tend to her needs immediately, she forced herself into Professor Vector's classroom.

* * *

><p>Professor Snape stood at the front of his classroom, his dark eyes surveying the students before him. They were eager to leave; it was a hellish class period, and Severus was in a very foul mood. A few of the students – even as fifth years – trembled under his scrutinizing glare. Sometimes he hated these children, the buffoons that they were. One would think after five years they would be capable… but no, not the students Severus had the misfortune of having to teach.<p>

The students had been instructed to craft a rather simple draught, and yet they failed to complete it successfully. The samples they had provided him were quite pitiful indeed, and they sat arranged in a row on Severus' desk. It was as if his fifth year students had been replaced by apes; some of the students had even interrupted his lectures with petty laughter, and he was absolutely infuriated by the time the end of class came.

As he glared at the students, they fidgeted in their chairs. Some were leaning over, the strap of their bag in their hands, ready to flee as soon as the word was given. He did not even try to conceal his fury – his long nostrils flaring with each inspiration of breath, a subtle pulsing of the veins at his temples.

"You are dismissed," he growled, his voice dangerously low. "Langley, MacKenna, Myott – I would like to see you in my office."

If nothing else, there was sense of satisfaction for Severus as the three named students – some of the most ignorant, irksome, incapable idiots in any of his classes – realized with horror that they would have to remain. The rest of the students shuffled out of the classroom in a hurry, and Severus turned on his heel, stalking to his office.

Taking a seat behind his desk, he waited for the three troublesome dimwits to enter his office. Slowly, they arrived, their eyes wide with terror. He watched them closely at first, saying nothing. They squirmed under his gaze, and he lavished their fear in that moment, feeling vicious.

"You three are fortunate that Professor Dumbledore requires more than just pure idiocy for expulsion," Severus said, his voice icy and low. "If you disrupt my class once more, I will see to it that you will be among the most abhorred students in your houses. Fifty points from Ravenclaw and one hundred points from Hufflepuff."

The students gawked at the severity of their punishment. When Myott began to protest, Severus narrowed his eyes. The girl silenced herself immediately, her cheeks turning quite pink. Her gaze lowered to the floor.

"Get out of my office."

They needed not a second's thought to escape. As they rushed from the room, they nearly toppled over his apprentice, who entered, her face twisted in confusion. Severus was in a most foul mood, so much so that he wanted nothing to do with Hermione even. And she could tell.

She paused, turning her head to the side in question. Severus' black eyes bore into her own and she realized that if she lingered much longer, even she would find her house points reduced. Turning on her heel, Hermione fled the office and shut herself into the laboratory, where she worked quietly into the night. She came to recognize when Severus was unapproachable, and tonight he appeared to be of that disposition.

Severus remained in his office for a very long time that evening. He did not even consider reviewing the results from his fifth year class – he knew they would only make him murderous. He wanted nothing more than quiet seclusion, and instead began marking the potion samples his third year students had provided him a day earlier. While the samples were not abysmal, he was not terribly pleased with the results, and the task only soured his mood further.

Rather than continue to darken his mood, Severus finally stood from his desk and decided to observe his apprentice. Crossing the classroom, he paused a moment before the laboratory. Hermione had shut the door, a silent gesture indicating she knew he needed his privacy, and she intended on granting him that favor. He pushed the door open gently, the hinges creaking quietly against the weight. She hadn't noticed, as she was fully enthralled in what she was doing. He slid quietly into the room, approaching her from behind.

Hermione, who had been bent over her text, jumped with a start when Severus rested his hands on her hips. A quiet yelp had escaped her lips, and when she turned to chastise him, he caught her mouth in his. She melted into his kiss, forgetting her anger with him.

"I didn't want to bother you earlier," Hermione began as he released her. She turned back to her work. "You seemed very angry."

Severus did not respond, but simply watched her work. She had bewitched her potion to stir itself, and she apparently had begun working on homework from another class. Considering how aggravated he was, he was surprised that it didn't bother him.

"It only needed to be stirred for some hours today," she said, as she noticed his eyes scanning her workstation. "So I thought it would be appropriate if I worked on something from another class."

"You were correct in your assumption, but next time I request you ask my permission," Severus said.

"Of course," she replied simply, turning from him. She would have, too, if he weren't so angry earlier. But she thought better than to mention that to him.

Severus moved soundlessly through the laboratory as Hermione worked. She had grown accustomed to his eccentric ways, such as the way he would pace while observing her work. She had grown comfortable with him watching her, which was not something she had thought she would have ever been able to say before.

They remained together in the laboratory for the rest of the evening. Severus felt his mood improve simply in the presence of Hermione, and her intelligent conversation surely helped. On a few occasions, Hermione had been the one to approach Severus with devious intent, her hands somehow managing to find their way to his groin. It was as though she were encouraging him to completely abandon all he had been doing (though it was not much; simply organizing his stores for the most part) to tend to the needs she instigated below his belt. Her lips curled seductively whenever she caught his eye.

When they retired for the evening, Hermione had all but dragged Severus to his sleeping quarters, where she was the one to ravage him in lust. This side of her had never been exposed to him before, but he had to admit he did not mind it one bit.

As they entered his quarters, she had turned on him suddenly, pressing a passionate kiss against his lips. He had paused only a moment before grabbing hold of her, as her fingers began rapidly unfastening his clothing and pushing it off of him. She couldn't even wait to make it into his bedroom, and so she dragged him to the couch.

There, with Severus almost completely nude and Hermione almost completely dressed, she pulled her clothing off, nearly tearing it at the seams. She pressed another passionate kiss against his lips, her legs straddling his hips, grinding her hot core into his member. As she kissed her way down his face, he turned his head back to expose his throat to her. There, she bruised the pale flesh with aggressive kisses and gentle bites. Severus released a soft pleasured groan.

Lowering herself to her knees, she tightly wrapped her fingers around his throbbing organ. He watched her, the amber depths of her eyes ablaze with lust, and released a startled gasp when her mouth surrounded him. Allowing his head to loll backwards against the couch, Severus opened his legs to give her greater access to his manhood.

As she pleasured him, he couldn't help but press his hand against her head, guiding her movements to produce longer strokes with her mouth. As he felt himself coming closer to climax, she slowed her rhythmic movements – she could tell he was close to release, and to climax into her mouth simply would not do! Not this time. Her eyes flickered up to him, and as he looked down at her (hardly concealing his frustrated expression), she pulled her mouth off his erection.

Hermione snaked her way up to him, straddling his hips with her legs, and lowered herself onto him. She released a loud and excited moan as she moved onto him, her thrusts slow and long. Severus sucked one of her breasts into his mouth, his tongue teasing the hard nub. Hermione moaned softly, her body moving rhythmically along Severus' hard shaft.

Her chest was flushed and droplets of sweat squeezed their way onto her flesh. Severus cupped her breasts in his hands, kissing her neck as she rode him roughly, his voice a low growl against her throat as he moaned.

It wasn't long before Severus was climaxing, digging his spidery fingers into the flesh of her thighs. She slowed her movements down, as if trying to squeeze every last drop from him, and his panting breaths slowed with her. She leaned into him, placing kisses along his ear and jaw.

"I don't know what just got into me," she blushed, her breath on his ear. "I just… I've been thinking of you all day."

Severus touched her chin with his fingers gently, pulling her face to his. He planted a kiss onto her lips. "If you believe I minded your behavior just now, you are sorely mistaken, Miss Granger," he crooned, his voice silky and satisfied.

Hermione's cheeks turned bright pink again as she lowered herself to the couch beside her lover. She nestled into his chest, seeking his warmth. With a wave of his hand, the fireplace flickered into life, giving off the heat Hermione was seeking. Severus' fingers gently stroked the soft skin of Hermione's back, his touch raising gooseflesh along her body and eliciting a shiver. They remained on his couch for the rest of the evening, staring into the fireplace.

"Severus, I am very happy," she said quietly, the reflection of fire dancing in her eyes.

Severus squeezed her close to him, his fingers combing through her hair. He said nothing, and she was alright with that. Her amber eyes flickered shut, and she allowed herself to drift into sleep.

* * *

><p>The following morning, Hermione woke before dawn. As she slowly sat, she realized that both she and Severus were lying in his bed. She recalled falling asleep on the couch, and wagered he must have carried her to bed after she had fallen asleep.<p>

The Head Girl turned to look at her lover, a simple smile crossing her face. He was on his side, peacefully sleeping, and the harsh lines etched in his face seemed softer and less defined. She traced the crease around his mouth. The corner of his lips twitched, and slowly his eyes cracked open.

"What time is it?" he asked, his voice heavy with sleep.

"Just after dawn," Hermione whispered, leaning in to kiss him. He returned the gesture, though half-heartedly.

"Why are you awake?" he asked, rolling over to his other side.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh softly. Given how little she knew Severus last year, she would have only guessed that he was not a morning person. These past few months of waking beside him proved her to be right, though it seemed as long as he was the one to wake first, he was less grouchy.

She curled up behind him, wrapping her arm around his waist. She planted kisses all along his shoulders and the back of his neck, pushing his hair out of the way with her face. She felt him breathe a heavy sigh, one of contentment, and it forced a smile on her face. Her trail of kisses ended at the pinna of his ear.

"Severus, I love you," she whispered into his ear. "More than I ever thought possible."

They lay there for a few moments longer, Hermione snaked around his body. His breathing was even and slow, leading her to believe he had fallen back to sleep. Carefully, she slowly began rising from his bed, trying her best to avoid waking him and intending on departing before the early morning hallway wanderers. She felt his hand grasp her wrist, and she paused, turning towards him.

"Wait," he whispered, rolling onto his back. His dark eyes were glossy with sleep, but their gaze bore into her soul nonetheless.

Hermione smiled. "What is it?"

"You haven't any idea what that means to me, Hermione," he whispered to her. "I love you too."

She leaned into him, kissing him deeply. He combed his fingers through her hair, returning her gesture. She collapsed into the bed with him, his arms enveloping her as he kissed her passionately. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her fingers gently tracing shapes into the smooth skin of his back. If this moment could have lasted forever, Hermione would have been content. After a moment though, she pulled away, hesitantly.

"I need to get back to my rooms," she said, her voice almost sad.

Severus nodded, turning onto his side to face her. "Of course."

Lifting from the bed, Hermione moved through the room to gather her clothing in the sitting room. Quickly dressing, she stepped into Severus' sleeping room once more, kneeling onto his bed to kiss him. He pulled her into an embrace suddenly, catching her by surprise. He kissed her forehead before releasing her.

"I'll see you in class," she whispered.

The Potions Master rolled onto his back, folding his hands beneath his head. He could hear her quiet footsteps as she crossed the sitting room. He turned onto his side, allowing his eyes to flicker closed once more. He still had quite a bit of time to sleep, and he intended on resting for a bit longer. He heard the quiet creak of the door as it opened, and then a quiet gasp from his lover.

What he didn't expect to hear was the surprised voice of the Headmaster. "Well, good morning, Miss Granger. I can say I certainly was not expecting to find you here."

Severus sat up so quickly in his bed his head began throbbing momentarily. He rose from his bed, hurrying to gather his robes. Panicked, he pulled them on, stumbling over the legs of his trousers.

"Professor Dumbledore!" he heard Hermione cry.

"I don't suppose Professor Snape is in here as well?" the Headmaster asked, his voice calm.

He could hear Hermione stammering in shock. "Well… uh… uhm…" If he could have found humor in her speechlessness, he would have.

Pulling his fingers through his hair, Severus swept into the sitting room, as calmly as he could muster. Dumbledore was still standing in the entranceway, Hermione blocking his path into the room.

"Headmaster," Severus said.

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore looked from Hermione to face the Potions Master. "I had come to discuss something with you, but it seems so trivial now that I have run into Miss Granger stepping out of your private quarters so early in the morning. Pardon me, Miss Granger, if you would."

Hermione blushed intensely as she backed out of the Headmaster's way. He and Severus simply stared at each other for a few very long moments. Hermione remained standing by the door, dumbfounded and rooted to the spot.

"Severus, I believe you have some explaining to do," Dumbledore said softly, turning his eyes on Hermione. "Have a seat, dear girl. I have a feeling this is going to be a very long conversation."


	20. Chapter 20

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

Author's Note: College is resuming so updates will, in all likelihood, be more infrequent than in the past. Bear with me!

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 20**

Hermione moved over to one of the chairs by the hearth and slowly lowered herself into it. She couldn't pull her eyes off of the two powerful wizards standing before her, locked in a stare. Dumbledore gestured with his hand to the couch across from her, and both men walked to the furniture. Dumbledore pointedly took the chair beside Hermione, while Severus sat down across from them.

"I suppose the first question I have addresses the issue of a student departing from your private rooms, Severus," Dumbledore began grimly, eyeing the younger man over his half-moon spectacles.

Severus bristled slightly, his dark gaze shifting from the Headmaster to the Head Girl, and back again. Hermione watched him as he was considering his answer, and the old man beside her shifted in his chair. In the silence, he turned his face to Hermione, the usual twinkle in his light blue eyes absent. She bowed her head.

"I would like to believe that, for some peculiar reason, Miss Granger required something from your private rooms for her projects – and, the diligent student that she is, she began to work very early on something she did not finish last night." Dumbledore's gaze shifted to the wizard across from him. "But I'm afraid I don't think that to be the truth of the situation, is it, Severus?"

It seemed that Severus had decided on honesty with the Headmaster. Hermione, who had only been training Occlumency for a little over a month, hoped dearly she was skilled enough with her basic knowledge to convince Dumbledore of anything Severus told him. The Potions Master lowered his eyes to his calloused hands, the bony fingers flexing.

"You had said so yourself, Headmaster. It is not unusual for a man to become intrigued by one he works so closely with, especially one such as Hermione," Severus growled.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, releasing a quiet, "Ah" as though he understood. There was a deafening silence weighing in on them, and Hermione squirmed. Panic was rising in her chest; she did not feel as though she were skilled enough to protect Severus from Dumbledore knowing the truth.

"Hermione is a very mature woman," Severus began. "She is also, coincidentally, of legal age." He added quickly, and before Dumbledore could interject, continued: "You are as aware of her abilities as I, Headmaster. You know that she has encountered many a challenging hurdle and she has overcome. She has lead Potter and Weasley to safety on more occasions than one should reasonably be expected. Sh—"

Dumbledore raised his hand in front of him, signaling Severus to silence. The Potions Master stopped speaking almost instantly, and Hermione's eyes shifted to the Headmaster.

"Are you suggesting that this relationship developed as a result of _her_ decision?" he asked.

It didn't take but a second for Severus to answer. "I am stating that the relationship developed normally, as one would when two individuals are working so closely together," he replied calmly. "Especially considering the commonalities between both parties."

Dumbledore nodded, slowly. His gaze flickered from Severus to Hermione, as though he was trying to gather any unspoken information before making his next decision.

"This is very inappropriate, Severus," his voice was sullen with disappointment. "I should fire you." Quickly, Dumbledore turned on Hermione. "I would like to speak to you privately."

Hermione's brown eyes widened in apprehension, and she looked to Severus. With Dumbledore's eyes fixed on Hermione's face, Severus offered her an uncharacteristic condoling expression before rising.

"I will be in my office. Call to me when you are through."

The Potions Master hesitated for only a moment before sweeping off to his office. When Dumbledore heard the quiet click of the door closing, he turned to Hermione once more. Her hands were trembling and she was sweating.

"Dear girl, calm down," Dumbledore said, his voice calm. "You are not in any trouble."

Hermione's lower lip quivered as she tried to withhold her tears. Dumbledore continued: "Professor Snape was quite correct in what he said about you. You are plenty capable of making a mature decision such as this on your own. You have saved the lives of your friends on many occasions and I do not doubt you will continue to serve a vital role in their lives. That being said," Dumbledore paused. "I must know if what else he has said is true. Did you come to this decision mutually?"

Hermione nodded, slowly. "Yes, sir."

"Professor Snape did not in any way force this relationship onto you?"

"No, sir."

"He did not blackmail you with receiving a poor grade or dismissing your apprenticeship?"

"No!" she exclaimed, as though shocked he would suggest such a thing.

"He did not force himself onto you?"

To this, Hermione faltered only a moment before responding. "No, sir."

He lowered his chin just slightly to peer at her over his spectacles. She felt as though he was trying to read her, and she forced any emotions related to her assault away from her thoughts. Hastily, she brought to mind the moment she confronted him about her feelings for him.

It seemed as though he was considering something, and as he looked at Hermione, his expression changed slightly. "Are you certain he did not in any way force this upon you?"

Hermione shook her head, her mane of wild hair flowing with it. "No, sir. I came of this decision on my own, after working with him for so long so closely."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. She continued to speak: "I know it seems strange, and perhaps it is. But we work nearly every night together on my projects – and there are _many_ to work on, as one would expect from Professor Snape. We had found… comfort in the presence of the other, intellectual adversaries that no one else could provide. I had no idea if he had begun feeling the same way I had… but I approached him anyway. He hesitated, mind you." She lowered her eyes to her hands. "He thought about it, he knew it was inappropriate, but… it was hard to ignore." She raised her gaze to meet his, steadily.

The Headmaster said nothing, but simply listened. His light eyes were fixed on Hermione's face, and she knew he was trying to discover whether she was lying. She thought of that early morning that she woke Severus to confess to him her feelings, and his hesitancy to respond. After a moment, Dumbledore turned towards the office door.

"Severus," he called.

The door swung open and Severus entered, his eyes flickering between his lover and his friend. Hermione did not seem quite as anxious, though she was still visibly shaken. Dumbledore gestured to the couch once more, and Severus lowered himself onto it. His black eyes bore into Dumbledore's face.

They were bathed in silence for a very long time. It seemed that Dumbledore was quietly thinking, his light blue eyes fixed on the younger wizard.

Suddenly, Dumbledore turned to Hermione. "It is about time you head off to class, Miss Granger."

Hermione glanced to the clock, and surely enough, he was right. She heaved a sigh of relief, glad to be excused. Standing from the chair, she bowed her head to both men, and quickly made to depart. When the door closed behind her, Dumbledore turned to Severus.

"I am very disappointed, Severus," his voice was grave. "How long?"

Severus hesitated for a moment. "Several months, Headmaster. Shortly after the start of term."

"Miss Granger tells me that this came as her decision. She denies that you forced it upon her or blackmailed her," he said, his voice quiet. "She also denies that you forced _yourself_ upon her. I pray that she is being honest."

Severus did not answer the elder wizard. Dumbledore remained sitting across from him for quite awhile, silently. He seemed to be simply considering the situation. Severus found his apprehension rising, which seemed very unusual to the man – he rarely felt anxious about anything, but this particular situation was so uncalled for, he was so unprepared for… he knew not what Hermione had told Dumbledore, but he hoped that his answers reflected hers.

The luck of this morning. If it was representative at all of the remainder of the day, Severus found himself feeling particularly bitter. His calloused fingers were curling and uncurling into a fist.

"I hope you have protected her," Dumbledore's voice came softly. "Of all that comes with being associated with you."

A stabbing statement and it was intended as such. Severus nodded. "Indeed, I have. When she came to me, I made her aware that she is placing herself in harm's way should this ever be made public. She simply laughed, as her best friend is Potter."

"Does anyone else know of this?" the old wizard asked.

"We have done very well to keep this secret," he answered.

"What of Malfoy's accusations?" Dumbledore asked.

"I am uncertain whether they are truthful," Severus said softly. "I cannot know for certain if he is honest in claiming he has seen us."

Silence fell on them once more. Severus stood from his seat to begin pacing, his robes bustling out about his feet. Dumbledore's light eyes followed the younger man.

"Severus, I shouldn't accept this," the Headmaster said. "I should very well fire you."

Severus turned on him quickly. "There is no reason, Headmaster! She is of legal age and she is plenty capable of making this decision on her own. You know that as well as I. She is mature well beyond her years. We have kept it very secret, so much so that even her friends are unaware. There is absolutely no risk—"

"There _is_ absolutely risk," Dumbledore replied, his voice agitated. "There is great risk to her."

"And she is quite capable of defending herself, Headmaster! You are as aware of that as I!" Severus exclaimed. "She has faced many a difficult situation, Headmaster, and she has prevailed admirably. She has great skill with magic! She—"

"Do you love her?" Dumbledore asked suddenly.

The question was so sudden that Severus nearly stumbled in his steps. He turned from the Headmaster to face the hearth, grasping tightly to the mantle as if for support, staring into the cinders of the extinguished flame. The quiet whisper of fabric told the Potions Master that Dumbledore had risen from his seat. He felt a hand softly cup his shoulder.

"Severus," Dumbledore said softly.

"Yes, Albus," Severus snapped. "I love her."

* * *

><p>Hermione had all but run to her private rooms. Her heart was pumping so quickly in her chest she thought the muscle might explode – and her rapid heartbeat had nothing to do with her pace. She couldn't believe that Dumbledore caught her sneaking from Severus' private rooms. They weren't ready to be exposed yet.<p>

She hoped that her Occlumency skill was powerful enough to convince Dumbledore. She had no idea how powerful a Legilimens he was, and it terrified her to think that he could have simply plucked it from her brain that Severus had raped her.

She burst into her private rooms, finally allowing her tears to fall onto her cheeks. She had been withholding her crying in the presence of Dumbledore, but now in private she couldn't contain it anymore. Her tears flowed freely down her face. The thought that Severus might lose his protection because of her horrified her, and she couldn't bear to lose him.

Despite her concern, she thought it seemed as though Dumbledore was actually considering allowing them to continue their relationship. Severus had made a very good case to Dumbledore, and Hermione hoped she only confirmed such when she spoke to him alone. She had no idea what was going on now, as Severus was left alone with the Headmaster, and it was killing her.

She knew that she would find out soon enough the results of their exposure. If her suspicions were right, his mood would accurately reflect their discussion alone. She didn't know if she would see him before lunch, but she planned on meeting with him during the period.

Hurriedly, she got into her shower, with little time to prepare before classes. The muscles of her legs ached and her heart seemed to have no intention on slowing. She couldn't get Severus off her mind, and as a result she was quite eager for the lunch hour to arrive so she could talk with him privately. She dressed quickly, tying her wet hair back into a bun, and collected her books for her morning classes.

Severus was sitting in his office, finding the thought of socializing during lunch rather detestable. His mind was whirling with events from the morning. He heard the door to his office open slightly, and Hermione poked her head around it.

"Is it alright that I come in?" she asked cautiously.

He nodded curtly and she entered slowly, her eyes scanning the surroundings. Everything was as she remembered it last, which granted her some relief. Cautiously, she lowered into the chair across from her lover, and waited quietly. His desk was littered with parchment, and the food on his plate was untouched.

Severus didn't even want her company that lunch hour, but he did find some comfort in it. He lowered his gaze to his plate once more, pushing the food around, with no intention on actually consuming any of it. Hermione shifted in her seat slightly, the old wood creaking under her weight.

"Severus, you're worrying me," she said quietly.

"There is no need to worry, Hermione," he said softly. "I am not going anywhere."

Hermione perked up at this news. Severus continued: "Professor Dumbledore has decided that you are mature enough to make this decision on your own, and he could not determine if we were lying to him about any aspect of our relationship" – Severus raised his eyes to look at her, the slightest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth – "I must say I am quite pleased with your progress in our Occlumency lessons."

Hermione smiled slightly. He continued speaking. "Professor Dumbledore wanted to make certain I understood that he did not approve of our relationship whatsoever, but he would not punish us for it."

The truth of the situation was that while Albus did not approve, he admitted he felt some happiness for Severus.

"_Yes, Albus," Severus snapped. "I love her."_

_A moment of silence passed between them, and Dumbledore lifted his hand from the younger wizard's shoulder. He placed his hand on the small of his back, leading him to be seated once more. As both men lowered themselves to their seats, Dumbledore leaned in._

"_You have loved Lily for so long, Severus," Dumbledore said._

"_I still do," Severus growled, his gaze resting somewhere beyond the Headmaster. The backs of his eyes stung slightly, as though tears were trying to push their way through. "I always will."_

"_But Miss Granger?"_

"_I have come to love her," Severus hissed. He was growing irritated with this conversation quickly. _

"_Ah, Severus," Dumbledore's voice seemed almost happy. "Were I anyone else, I would not believe you were capable of loving so much."_

_Severus' fathomless black eyes narrowed at Dumbledore, but the elder man seemed not to notice. Silence settled in on them for a moment. In the quiet, Severus lowered his eyes to his hands, his gaze tracing the prominent veins._

"_I always thought there were some parallels between both women," Dumbledore began, his voice reflecting fondness. "Ever since I first met Miss Granger, she reminded me of Lily Evans. I found no surprise that Harry had taken to Hermione as he had."_

_Severus' eyes flickered to Dumbledore's face, but he said nothing. Dumbledore was looking off towards one of the bookshelves, the customary twinkling in his eyes recovered._

"_When I learned that you were taking on Miss Granger as your apprentice, I suspected you would come to learn the same," he said. "You were never witness to it, as a child – quite possibly because you were quite smitten with her – but Miss Evans behaved much the same as Miss Granger. I believe, if you were to have taught Lily as well, you may have referred to her rather unfondly as 'an insufferable know-it-all,'" Dumbledore's mouth turned up into a slight smile. "She was quite concerned with proving herself to be worthy of the unique abilities she was granted, especially in the face of such prejudice. _

"_I suspected that you would come to care for Miss Granger in a way you had never for any of your previous apprentices, though few they were. I anticipated that you would eventually find a companion in her, a friendly conversation and a very talented partner," he paused, his eyes finally falling onto Severus' face. "I did not expect this, though. I did not expect a romantic relationship to flourish so soon after you accepted her."_

"_I did not expect this either, Headmaster," Severus said softly._

"_Do her parents know?" the old wizard asked, his tired eyes peering over his spectacles. _

_Severus hesitated before answering. For whatever reason, he hadn't once even considered the possibility of Hermione's parents – and if they would disapprove. He lowered his eyes. "I don't believe so." _

_Silence hung in the air for a moment, though it seemed an eternity to the Potions Master. He looked up at Albus. Firmly, Dumbledore placed his hand on the table that separated him from Severus. _

"_You are quite correct; she is very capable of making this decision. I hope you will not take advantage of how much she cares for you, Severus. It is very obvious that she loves you dearly, and I'm afraid she will show you the same loyalty she shows her friends. Her feelings for you may cause her great harm."_

"_I know," Severus hissed, tearing his gaze from the old wizard. "She knows, too."_

"_I require that you keep your relationship secret, Severus," Dumbledore ordered. "I do not want any word of this escaping. No one can know. If anyone else discovers this, I may be forced by the Ministry to take action – and I do not believe it to be an appropriate action, mind you. While I do not approve of this situation, I cannot chastise you for it either. There is, technically, nothing actionable about this. However, that does not mean the Ministry will not be forced by the hands of hundreds of irate parents. If you allow this to be exposed, I will not be able to protect you, Severus."_

_Severus nodded slowly. "Yes, Headmaster."_

"_I suspect that you have taken great care to ensure that this remains private," Dumbledore said. "As this is the first I have heard any confirmation that Malfoy's accusations were quite true." He smiled slightly. "I trust you will continue to keep this hidden from public knowledge at all costs."_

"_Of course, Headmaster."_

She reached across his desk, wrapping her arms around his neck. "That is wonderful, Severus!"

Severus set his hands on her hips, barely returning her embrace. As she released him, she kissed him happily on the lips, seating herself in the chair once more and looking at him expectantly. He did not seem so thrilled, and as she noticed this, her expression also slowly changed.

"Severus, why does this seem to bother you?" she asked him, her head turned sideways slightly. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Severus looked at her. "Indeed, it is what I wanted, but I was not expecting it."

"I don't understa—"

"It is good news, most certainly," Severus interrupted. "And I am quite pleased with the result. I am rather upset with the manner in which it was revealed to Dumbledore, but there is nothing for it now. Pay you no concern, Hermione. It is very good that I can remain here, and that Dumbledore agreed that you are able to make such a choice without influence. I simply prefer to have these things done of my own accord, and not by surprise."

Hermione nodded slowly, frowning slightly. She couldn't understand how he could feel so sullen with such good news. She stood quickly. "I should tell Harry!"

"No," Severus interjected firmly. "You cannot."

Turning from the door, Hermione looked at the Potions Master. "But why not?"

"No one must find out, Hermione. Not even your friends. If they discover it, there is no saying who else might learn of it. We cannot risk that, as it may essentially force Dumbledore's hand. Once you graduate, then yes – we can make it known. But only then," Severus said softly. "You must also consider your friends'… disdain for me. They may understand you are capable of such a mature decision, but they may not accept it."

"I see," she said sadly. "I understand. It's for your safety."

"And for yours," he replied, his voice short.

The soft bells announcing the end of the lunch hour echoed through the dungeons, and Hermione turned her head in the direction of the door. "I suppose I should be going."

"Indeed," Severus nodded slowly. He rose from his desk and moved towards her.

Hermione smiled as he embraced her, pressing a kiss to her mouth. She parted her lips, allowing him in, and his tongue caressed hers hungrily. Suddenly, she had no drive to leave him then. Her fingers gently grazed his groin, and he growled into her mouth.

"Not now, Miss Granger."

Hermione broke from him, her hand lingering below his belt for just a moment before she turned on her heel and left without another word. Severus watched her leave, unable to shake the feeling of dread he felt rising within him. He could not explain it, but he felt as though Dumbledore's enlightenment held nothing good for his future.


	21. Chapter 21

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

Author's Note: I'm going to apologize in advance for the lengthy breaks between chapters. I am more busy with college than I originally predicted, and it is becoming increasingly difficult to find time to write for my own enjoyment! I hope you bear with me throughout it all. I would be nothing without you, reader!

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 21**

Despite their sudden discovery, Hermione insisted she continue training in Occlumency. She was very much interested in mastering the skill, and so Severus obliged, though he did so hesitantly. Despite his love for her, teaching Occlumency was _not_ his preferred pastime. As they progressed through the evening, Severus was exposed to very few memories, but he did catch several glimpses of Hermione's parents from her memories.

Cynically, he thought to himself, it only made sense that the thoughts he did happen to access (though few they were) would be those of Hermione's parents. They had been preoccupying his mind for the better portion of the day. He couldn't help but suspect that perhaps Hermione never mentioning her parents to him was indicative of how she felt about him meeting them – or how they would react if they discovered their daughter was having an affair with her much-older professor. Truth be told, he was certainly old enough to be her father, and this was a reality he was very much aware of, though it did not concern him.

They had to be close to his age, Severus reasoned. Though, as he recalled, her parents were both dentists. That certainly involved a huge investment of time at school. Maybe they were older; perhaps then, their reaction wouldn't be quite so harsh.

_Foolish._ Severus chastised himself. _You are still nearly twenty years her senior. The fact you are so smitten with someone barely of age…_

Taking a break from the intensive work, Hermione and Severus rested in his office, silently grading papers together. Hermione had become nearly as efficient at finding errors and correcting them as Severus, and he was grateful for the spare set of eyes to analyze the assignments.

At some point during the evening, Severus set his quill in its well, leaning back in his chair. He had resigned to asking her about her parents – did a man still need a woman's father's approval to see her? He didn't really know the customs of dating anymore, but he didn't want to give her parents any (more) reason to despise him. He was very much in love with Hermione, and he wanted nothing to interfere with that.

Hermione was invested in an essay, scrawling some final notes at the bottom and offering a letter grade (based on Severus' criteria for grading, of course). Once she added the paper to the pile of finished essays, she responded to his watchful eye.

"What is it?" she asked.

He was simply considering her, his dark gaze staring down his hooked nose at her. For a moment, he said nothing. It had been a very long time since Severus had a companion who desired his company, and he hadn't the slightest how these things worked.

"Would you like me to meet your parents?" he asked awkwardly.

The question came as a surprise to Hermione, and for a moment she simply sat, blinking at him. He was staring at her, expecting an answer, the creases in his forehead exaggerated by his raised eyebrows. Her voice was hesitant as she spoke.

"Well… I don't… I never really gave any thought to it, honestly," she replied, setting her quill in its inkwell. It wasn't necessarily rejection, but for some reason the Potion Master felt as though his stomach dropped.

She leaned onto her elbows, moving closer to Severus. He could tell she was seriously considering the question, and Severus remained quiet for a moment while she did. It took some time before she spoke, and Severus suspected that perhaps she truly had never once considered introducing him to her parents.

"I haven't really thought of it, at all. We have been so invested in trying to conceal our relationship from everyone that I never thought once that perhaps it was time to expose it to my parents. I don't know how they would feel… I haven't the slightest," Hermione replied. "Dad would probably… he would probably find it quite odd, you know, because you're my teacher. I don't know about Mum… I don't think she would approve at all. You're so much older than I am. I think it would be very hard for her to accept it. But I'm an adult now," she paused. "They don't really have any jurisdiction in the area, you know?"

"Indeed," Severus replied. "But if you would like—"

"I absolutely want you to meet them, Severus. I just don't believe now is a very good time for that," she said, smiling slightly. "All things considered. Perhaps when I graduate. They can find out when my friends do."

Severus nodded slowly. "If you insist, Hermione. I am not certain of Muggle customs in this sort of things."

Hermione smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "You shouldn't worry yourself with understanding Muggle culture, Severus. It's dreadfully boring!"

He returned to his task, dipping his quill in its inkwell. While she eased his concerns, the thought of her parents continued looming in his mind. Only a few minutes passed in silence, and he heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath as she seemed to realize something. He looked up at her.

"Severus! With everything that's happened, I completely forgot!" she cried.

With one raised eyebrow, Severus returned his quill to its inkwell once more. He looked puzzled by her sudden statement, and she continued: "I never thanked you for your gift!"

This seemed to bewilder the man further, as he rested his elbows on the desk and leaned in towards her. "What gift, Hermione?"

"The wine?" Hermione replied, her voice conveying the same bemusement as Severus' face.

"Hermione, I never sent you any wine," the Potions Master replied, his voice firm.

"No?" she asked. "It was wrapped in Slytherin colors…"

"It would appear you have an admirer, Hermione," Severus smirked. "Should I be jealous?"

Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "I haven't enough left to love anyone but you, Severus."

Tenderly, he reached his rough hand up to her face and stroked it gently. His thumb traced the contour of her lips, before he grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and pulled her to him. Hermione's eyes flickered closed as he kissed her, and she could not believe that even after all these months, she still trembled beneath his touch.

"I will have to keep a watchful eye on my students, then," Severus said, his voice suddenly dark, almost serious. "Otherwise they may begin encroaching on territory they would have been wise to leave well enough alone."

Hermione laughed. "Severus!"

She leaned in to kiss him once more, her stomach aflutter, and then returned to their task at hand. At least half an hour passed, and Hermione suddenly felt the mundane task of grading begin weighing in on her patience. She hadn't any idea how Severus could do this so often!

She set her quill down. "I'm going to check on my projects," she said quietly. His response was a gruff grunt, and she rose.

Quietly she pulled open the door to the classroom and passed into it, her shoes quietly clicking against the stone floor as she crossed to the laboratory. As she moved into the lab, she spotted her cauldrons, which were tucked away in the back corner.

Examining their contents, she ensured they were in working order. Her Draught of Life, which would continue maturing for several weeks, was currently a deep red, and it reminded Hermione very much of blood. The Drink of Despair, which was still resting above a small flame, was slowly churning and bubbling within the cauldron. She had bewitched the cauldron itself to prevent any spillage from the bubbles, and the invisible dome that covered its mouth was splattered with yellow fluid.

As she rose from kindling the flame below the cauldron, Hermione was startled to find she was no longer alone in the laboratory. Severus was leaning against the doorjamb casually, his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers.

"You startled me," she said quietly, turning away from him to scrawl some notes in her potions notebook.

"It certainly was not my intention, Miss Granger," Severus growled, moving over to her. He peered down into her cauldrons, turning his gaze slowly to her. "How is it?"

"As expected, I believe," Hermione replied, turning to her textbook. "Indeed. Both draughts are just as they should be."

"Tomorrow, I request that you assist me with my own personal task," he said slowly, his eyes watching the thick liquid that would be the Drink of Despair churn in the cauldron.

"Yes, of course, Severus," Hermione smiled at him. "I would love to!"

"Very well," he replied, slowly snaking his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to him. "We will need to access the greenhouses tomorrow during lunch, if you are not opposed." When she agreed to assist, he promptly changed the subject. "In which case, I believe it is about time we retired."

Hermione's lips curled into a smile and she nodded enthusiastically. In one quick movement, Severus had swept her up into his arms. She laughed, kissing his face as he carried her into the potions classroom. They paused there, kissing tenderly in the dark. She pressed her forehead against his, staring deep into his dark eyes.

"Severus, this feels too good to be true," she said, just the slightest hint of sadness in her voice.

"Yes, I know," Severus replied, kissing her nose sweetly. "But I intend on enjoying every last moment until the very end."

As he carried her through his office to his private rooms, she nuzzled her face into his sallow cheek. She couldn't believe the love she felt for this man; it was like nothing else she had ever experienced. In just some short months, her entire life had changed. When this school year started, she had only hoped for an exciting final year, very eager to begin her apprenticeship project with her mind set on one of three subjects. She hoped it would be a calm year, with no sign of dark wizardry, and a happy year, to finish out her wizarding education. And had her school year lived up to what she had hoped!

When they entered his rooms, Severus set her down gently. "Shall I run a bath for us?" he asked.

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes glittering in the dim light of the room. With a smile, she nodded. "I think that would be lovely, Severus."

"It isn't often that I do this," Severus said, as he flicked his wand. The faucets of his tub opened up, and the sound of rushing water filled the room. Shortly after, several more opened wide, pouring sweet-smelling and relaxing liquids into the water. "But I thought the occasion warranted it."

"Occasion?" Hermione asked.

"Professor Dumbledore, of course," Severus said. "While he certainly did not bless our relationship, I am still within the safety of Hogwarts and you are still in my arms."

"To Dumbledore, then," Hermione lifted her hand, as though offering a toast to the elder wizard.

Severus' hand caught her own, and he pulled her to him. "To us," he whispered, framing her face gently with his hands.

He pulled her face up to him, kissing her deeply, parting her lips and caressing her tongue gently. She leaned into his kiss, her body craving him. Slowly, Severus moved his hands down her throat, his thumbs resting at the center of her collar. He could feel her heartbeat, rapid and erratic, as his touch awakened parts of her she never knew she had.

His fingers gently worked open her robe, the light fabric slipping from her shoulders and falling with a quiet whisper to the floor. He began kissing her neck hungrily, his passionate suckling bruising her pale skin. Hermione moved her hands to her waist and unfastened her jeans. He slipped her shirt over her head and she wiggled out of her pants, standing before him in her undergarments.

Severus slowly knelt, leaving a trail of kisses from her lips to her neck to her chest and stopping at her stomach. She tangled her fingers in his hair, tipping her head back as his breath tickled her skin. Gliding his fingertips along her inner thigh, he slipped his fingers into her panties, sliding them down her legs. His kisses paused at the triangle of soft curls between her legs. Gently he combed his fingers through the soft hair there, barely touching her most sensitive parts.

"Severus, you're teasing," her voice was a soft whisper. She released a gasp when he leaned forward and began to tend to her sensitive nub, his fingers sliding up her thigh and into her hot core. It was quite difficult indeed for her to remain standing as he pleasured her, and he grasped her buttocks, holding her to him as he suckled her.

As he stood, he left a trail of kisses from her sex to her lips, shrugging out of his own robes. He led her to the bath, filled now with luxuriously hot water. The smells that emanated from the water soothed her senses, and as Hermione stepped into the bath, she felt her worries melt away. Severus slipped himself behind her, his legs on either side of her hips, and he began to rub the tension away from her muscles.

Hermione allowed head to fall forward as Severus' strong fingers began to massage the muscles at the base of her skull. Gently, yet firmly, his strong hands skillfully kneaded all the knots from her back. Her body was so tense that at first, it ached to have him press in on her in such a way, but as he worked, she soon found it difficult to suppress the pleasured gasps that he elicited.

"Hermione, have I told you what you mean to me?" he asked, leaning close to her ear.

"You don't have to tell me, Severus," she replied in a hushed voice. "I know."

Severus' fingers continued kneading through the tension of her body. From her shoulders to her fingertips, from her neck to her bottom, he found every tight knot of muscle and massaged it loose. He rested his chin upon her shoulder, his fingers working open the tightness in her lower back.

"Hermione, your love is my world," Severus said softly. "For the first time in a very, very long time, I have something to live for."

The backs of Hermione's eyes stung with tears, but she blinked them away. "Severus…"

He gently kissed her shoulders and the back of her neck, his hands sliding around to gently cup her breasts. His fingers gently teased her nipples into erection, and she leaned back against him, opening her entire body to him. She could feel his hardness pressing against her back. His lips lingered along her throat, gently suckling and leaving subtle bruises.

"Severus," she moaned gently, as one of his hands abandoned her breast and travelled down into the water to between her legs.

His lips were at her ear, kissing it gently and allowing his breath to brush against her cheek. He slid two of his fingers inside of her, probing gently. She arched her back against him, releasing a pleasured groan.

"Even now… with everything that's happened?" she asked, her lips curling into a mischievous smile as Severus continued pleasuring her.

"Hermione, I am a firm believer in compartmentalizing one's life," he said, his voice soft against her throat. "And certain things must take priority – you take priority."

Hermione turned in the water to face him, pressing a kiss against his lips. She slowly guided her hips to his hardness, plenty ready for him as he slid inside her wetness. Severus' hands were at her waist, guiding her along his shaft. His head tipped back against the rim of the tub, and he released a guttural moan. She felt luxurious wrapped around his throbbing organ so tightly.

Around them, water splashed out of the tub and onto the floor. But neither of them cared in that moment – the only thing that mattered then was them, and as they moved together passionately in the water, their voices singing pleasured moans, the entire world around them disappeared.

They only departed the bath when the water began to chill their skin, collapsing instead into Severus' bed. He combed his fingers through her hair, her head resting against his chest as his soft, even breathing slowly lulled her to the edge of consciousness.

She snuggled in close to his body, seeking his warmth. He pulled the covers up close to her, tightening the cocoon wrapped around her body. Looking into her face, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with love for this woman beside him. She was quietly sleeping now, and though he was not particularly sleepy himself, he was content with lying there with her, peacefully.

* * *

><p>Hermione wasn't sure when she actually woke that morning. The transition from dreaming to wakefulness was blissfully blurred, and as she lay in bed, she was overwhelmed by an intense feeling of pleasure. Stretching her limbs, she allowed her legs to fall open, exposing herself more fully to the man who was buried beneath the blankets, his hot mouth suckling at her most sensitive places.<p>

She released a soft moan as he licked at her wetness, his fingers gently working their way inside of her. He was hungrily pleasuring her, his tongue exploring every inch of her hot folds, basking in the smell and taste of her. She arched her back, raising her hips to push herself further into his mouth, as far as she could. He sucked harder at her, causing her to cry out his name in climactic release.

As she came down from her high, he poked his head out from under the covers and kissed her chest, slowly leading a trail to her lips. His face was wet with her and his tongue tasted of her. Longingly, he gazed into her eyes, his ebony depths filled with passion, with love, only for her – and as she lifted herself to him, he slowly pushed his way into her, moaning as she surrounded him.

"I love being inside of you," he gasped as he thrust into her. Her face flushed with her heatedness for him, her moans only inspiring him further.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," she gasped.

She tightened around him as he thrust forcefully into her, and the sudden friction nearly caused him to climax. He had to slow his movements otherwise he would spill within her, and he wanted this to last.

"I love you, Hermione," he whispered in her ear before kissing her deeply. She returned the gesture, her tongue massaging his aggressively, her fingers digging into the musculature of his back.

"I love you too, Severus," she said between her sighs of pleasure. "So, so much."

With a final thrust, he moaned her name as he released within her. Her muscles tightened around him, as though trying to milk him of it all, and as he eased out of her, he groaned in pleasure. Collapsing beside her in bed, they lay there, tangled within each other's limbs, kissing gently, passionately.

It wasn't until awhile later that Hermione realized they had drifted off to sleep once more, and she woke in a panic. Her sudden movements startled the sleeping man beside her, and he sat up in bed quickly.

"Severus! It's nearly nine-thirty!" she hissed. "We're late for class!"

"Shit!" he cursed, standing quickly and pulling on his dressing robe. As he stood in the middle of his sleeping quarters, he stared at her as she frantically rushed around the room, collecting her clothing.

"Hermione, you should relax for a moment. It is the middle of a class period – if we emerged from my office now, it would raise suspicion. Not to mention," he paused, and she recognized a glint of humor in his eyes. "We absolutely reek of sex."

Hermione's cheeks pinked ever-so slightly at his comment, and suddenly she laughed. "Yes, we do, don't we?"

"Let us shower" – and when Hermione cast him a look, he added – "and it will be quick, I promise."

"As long as you can stave off your sexual appetite!" she said, smiling at him.

"It is the only way we will ever make it out of my rooms in time for the next class period," Severus replied, his eyes glittering in the light of the sun.

They showered quickly indeed, and Severus led the way to his classroom, departing through his office door before Hermione to ensure the path was clear. His students – all of whom surely would not think of skipping his class even if he were not to show for fear of the severe repercussions – were all sitting, rather impatiently, at their desks. As he burst into the room, his long black robes billowing about him, the students jumped with a start.

"Seeing as I have delayed this class lecture," Severus began, and he had forced irritation into his tone. "I expect an essay on what should have been covered in class today by next Friday. Dismissed."

The students groaned and complained as they left the room. Hermione, having listened through the door, couldn't help but smile – Severus truly was milking that for what it was worth, as he gained much from being so late for his first class of the day (as it was such a wonderful way to spend the morning!), and he was able to inflict a tedious task on his students. When he called to Hermione, she cracked open the office door.

"I'll see you in class, Severus," she whispered to him, kissing him deeply, before slipping from the classroom.

* * *

><p>When she ran into Ron and Harry before her next class, they had some questions. They hadn't seen her at breakfast, which wasn't strange in itself, but when she was absent for her first class, that caused some alarm. They walked together, though Hermione was quite glad that her next class was Ancient Runes, which meant her friends would have to depart soon.<p>

"You've missed more classes this year than any other year, 'Mione," Ron said to her. "It's not like you."

Hermione frowned, and she nodded. "Yes, I know." Her mind whirled for a suitable excuse, but Harry interjected.

"Is everything okay, Hermione?" he asked, the concern in his voice quite clear.

"Erm… yes, Harry. Everything's okay. I think I've just been working myself too hard, it's nothing. Really," she offered a smile.

"If you're making yourself sick from school, 'Mione, that's quite a bit of something, actually," Harry replied, and as they came to a staircase, he stopped. "We're worried about you. We haven't seen you much at all this year, and you're missing classes – it's just not like you. We know you're busy with your apprenticeship, but if Snape is working you _this_ hard…"

Hermione's heart ached for her friends, and she suddenly wished she could tell them everything. She knew when they found out – nearly a year after everything began – they would be furious with her for lying to them for so long, and with reason. She tried to force a smile, to reassure them that everything was just fine, but instead her eyes stung with tears.

"I know, Harry. I know," she replied softly. "But it's just part of it, with Professor Snape – we all knew that, once he accepted me I wouldn't be around much. Between the apprenticeship and all of my other classes, I've a lot of work ahead of me."

Ron reached out to embrace his friend, and she fell into his arms. "Just… take care of yourself, 'Mione. We miss you, but we know how important this is to you."

She squeezed him around his waist tightly, tears threatening their way through to her cheeks. "Thank you. I love you both, I hope you know that!"

As she pulled away from Ron, Harry reached around her to hug her. "We know, Hermione. Don't you worry about that."

Hermione smiled at them. How she loved those boys, and missed them dearly. No matter what happened between her and Severus, these boys would always be her friends, and she would always care for them as her brothers. It hurt her to know how much they worried, but at the same time, she appreciated their concern, because it meant they truly cared for her, and sometimes she had forgotten about that.

"We'll see you at lunch, Hermione," Harry said, squeezing her hand affectionately before turning up the staircase.

"See you guys then," she replied, smiling. She continued on her way to Ancient Runes.

* * *

><p>Severus Snape was seated behind his desk at the front of his classroom, his dark eyes following each student as they entered and took their seat. When Hermione had entered (first, as always), while he did not openly display his joy at seeing her, she did recognize the glittering of his eyes that was only meant for her. She tried not to smile, instead tucking her chin to her chest, and took her seat at the front of the class.<p>

As Severus watched Hermione enter his classroom, he felt something stir beneath his belt. Fondly, he recalled their morning together, and as he watched her move through his classroom, he couldn't help but feel his desire for her rise.

_Focus_. He chided himself, bringing himself to the present. _Control yourself for the class period, Severus. _He shook his head, as if trying to shake from it the ridiculous thought.

As the last student filed into the classroom, Severus stood from his desk, his hands clasped behind his back. He had to admit, for what it was worth – and he knew that it may have been solely because it was Hermione's class – this year's seventh year potions class was one of his least despised classes he'd had in a long time. At the N.E.W.T. level, all of the students were capable (though that by no means meant they were _competent_); but this class was fairly proficient at the art of potion-brewing, and he rarely had to tuck into his own purse to replace items or repair damages caused by the students.

The students stared at him expectantly as he stood before them, and for a moment, Severus simply studied them. "Today's lesson," he began, "involves creating the antidote for basilisk venom."

In turn, the students began chattering quietly with anticipation. Severus knew that this was one of the most popular potions lessons he taught in all the classes, and the students always enjoyed the process very much. It may have been because they got to learn a little about Hogwarts folklore (little did they know that the myth was a reality until five years prior), or it may have been because they acquired the skill of drawing venom from a basilisk fang; Severus knew not what made this class so popular, but he didn't mind the day he would teach it, as the students generally performed remarkably well.

He allowed the prattle to continue for a second's longer until he decided to continue speaking. As his voice crossed the room, the palaver silenced quickly, and the students watched him with wide, excited eyes.

"In this lesson we will discuss the basilisk…" and so class continued. Severus ordered his students to turn to the appropriate page, and as he spoke, he watched eager hands scribbling down his words rapidly, excited to begin brewing.

Hermione enjoyed listening to his voice, calm and commanding, as he instructed the class. She paid close attention to his words, but for a moment she wasn't sure if it was because she was concerned about what he was actually speaking, or if it was just because that voice sent chills down her spine. A small smile crossed her lips as she considered the latter, unsurprised if it was indeed the case.

"Get to work," he said finally, and in a shuffle of feet, screech of chairs, and clunk of cauldrons, the students rushed to the back of the room to begin their work.

As the students worked, Severus stalked between workstations, peering over his pupils' shoulders to their busy hands, studying them as they worked. He circled the students like a vulture, preying on them for the slightest mistake. This was a particularly risky class lesson as much as it was entertaining for the students; to make any error in drawing venom from the fang could result in a long stay at the infirmary, and Severus refused to craft the very tonic that his students were supposed to learn how to brew themselves.

"Need I remind you to handle the basilisk fang with extreme caution," he growled. "As it is _your _job to create the antidote, I have not prepared any ahead of time."

As he wandered through the aisles, he stopped before Hermione's workstation. Malfoy, who had been working across the room, turned and watched Severus as the professor studied his student, as though the Slytherin was waiting to witness something Severus would later regret. Neither professor nor pupil noticed their audience, and Severus towered above her, watching her closely.

"Granger," came the low rumble. Hermione looked up at him, trying to conceal her smile the best she could. With a morning as lovely as they had, she couldn't help but feel as though she would burst with joy the moment she made eye contact with the man. "I would like to see you in my office."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Yes, sir. Let me just finish here."

"Quickly, Granger," his voice was a quiet growl, and he continued on to the next student.

Hermione had been drawing venom from the fang as he had spoken to her, and once she was able to add the poison to her cauldron, she set the empty tooth down. Her potion would need to simmer over an open flame for fifteen minutes before she could crush a bezoar and drop it into the mixture, so she approached Severus slowly after casting a protective spell upon the cauldron (to keep the Slytherins from tampering with her potion, of course). When he noticed her coming towards him, he stalked to his office.

She closed the door behind her, knowing that the eyes of her classmates had been following her as she walked. She leaned against the door briefly, willing her nerves to settle, and then she looked up at Severus.

"What is it?" she asked him, puzzled.

"I couldn't help myself," he hissed, grabbing hold of her tightly and pressing a kiss against her lips. She was surprised by the gesture, but melted into his touch, her tongue caressing his passionately. His touch was so familiar to her, and yet a simple kiss from him could cause her body to react, as though they had never touched before.

His rough hands pushed her robes out of the way to slide into her blouse, caressing the supple skin there. His touch was light, almost teasing, as his fingers gently stroked the sensitive skin. She released a soft moan into his mouth, his tantalizing touch stirring something deep within her groin.

"The only thing on my mind was you – the taste and smell of you," he growled into her throat as he planted kisses along her neck, careful not to leave a mark. "All I could think of was this morning."

She sighed at his caress, tilting her head to the side to expose her throat to him. The way his hands were ravaging her body, his lips touching every part of her – she wanted to reject him, to avoid suspicion of the class, but she couldn't. Her longing for him overwhelmed any rational thought.

"I just had to have you before tonight," he groaned into her as he dropped to his knees, lifting her shirt to suckle her breast. His hand reached around her back, gently tracing the contour of her spine, sending a shiver coursing through her body. She leaned into him, her hips pressing into his chest.

"Right now, Severus?" she gasped as his hands began to unfasten her pants. "In the middle of class?" Her jeans dropped to her ankles, and Severus delicately slid her panties from between her thighs.

"Quickly," he hissed, his tongue gently teasing the sensitive nub between her legs. His fingers gently crawled up her thigh, slipping between the wet folds of her core.

A soft moan escaped her lips as his fingers played within her, stroking her insides. "Is this a quickie, Severus?" she gasped, her breathing heavy.

"If you want to call it that," he growled. His fingers were still stroking her inside, his lips still teasing her. She released a pleasured gasp as his tongue flicked at her.

As Severus rose from her, he planted kisses all along the path to her face. His lips did not leave her body as he circled around her, coming to her backside. His fingers traced the contours of her hips, and he gently leaned into her, pressing his hardness into her back.

"Bend over," he whispered into her ear, his tongue tracing the lobe. He sucked it into his mouth, tugging on it gently.

She leaned over his desk and she heard him unfasten his trousers. Suddenly, she felt his exposed manhood against her behind, and she couldn't help but smile.

"I hope you had that tucked away during class, Severus," her voice was low, almost primal, as her arousal overtook any logical sense.

He suddenly pushed himself into her wetness, and she grabbed tightly onto the edge of the desk to keep from crying out in pleasure. With his hands grasping her hips, he pumped into her, quickly, roughly, his own quiet groans escaping his lips with each thrust. The edge of his desk was pressing painfully into her thighs but she didn't care; the only thing on her mind was the amazing feeling of her lover, absolutely filling her, pressing in on spots within her she had never felt before.

Hermione couldn't help but wish his long, slow thrusts would push deeper and deeper within her. As he moved inside her, she arched her body away from her desk, biting her lip to keep from crying out in ecstasy. With her back arched, he was able to reach around her and cup her breasts, caressing them gently. He threw his head back as he approached his release, her body in his hands like heaven to him.

It did not take Severus very long to reach his climax, and as he came within her, he clenched his teeth against the intense pleasure. He nearly collapsed onto her, catching himself on the desk and supporting his weight above her.

As he removed himself from within her, he kissed her neck gently. She straightened up, pulling her jeans over her hips and straightening her robe. She grasped the collar of Severus' robe, kissing him passionately once more before turning towards the office door. She tried to suppress any thoughts of what just occurred in his office to avoid from blushing, but it was quite hard indeed.

She opened the door slowly, lowering her gaze to the ground. She wanted both to hide her face, which could very well betray her, and let the students believe she had just endured a severe lecture, and approached her desk. Severus swept from the room, his face twisted into a foul expression, as though having to discuss anything with Hermione Granger was indeed a most distasteful task.

The eyes of students flickered from the Gryffindor Head Girl to the Slytherin Head of House, some with great sympathy, others with great entertainment. After Hermione resumed working, all of the students followed suit, except for one: Draco Malfoy, whose grey eyes were narrowed suspiciously, turned his pointed face into a smug sneer. Severus' eyes had scanned the students, and as Malfoy was watching Hermione, he caught sight of this subtle gesture.

Suddenly, Severus felt anger boil inside of him at the sight of the young Malfoy. He leaned onto his desk, his knuckles turning white as he grasped the edges, his mind whirling through the flurry of emotions the entire Malfoy family had recently inspired within him.


	22. Chapter 22

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

Author's Note: I apologize for the delay in updating. This semester has involve more work than I anticipated, and I have barely had time to breathe, let alone write for pleasure!

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 22**

Hermione stifled a quiet giggle as she softly closed the door to Severus' rooms. It was Valentine's Day morning – very early morning – and though they had not discussed the holiday, she had left him quite the surprise! Happily, she recalled waking beside him that morning, his arm draped protectively across her waist, and, trying her best not to wake him, she eased out his embrace and the covers of the bed.

She knew she would not see him personally until her potions lesson later that morning, but she eagerly awaited catching his eye during breakfast. As she hurried to her private rooms to shower and dress for the day, the grin that had shamelessly plastered her face since the moment she set her little trick in motion had not left her.

As she bounced down the stairs to the common room after her shower, she spotted Ginny Weasley sitting by the fireplace, playing with the pendant of a necklace about her neck. Hermione took a seat next to her.

"Is that necklace new?" she asked, leaning down to study the pendant. It was certainly from Harry – the pendant was gold and in the shape of a lightning bolt. In the center of the charm, Ginny's birthstone was set. "It's beautiful."

"Yes, Harry gave it to me this morning!" Ginny beamed, tucking her chin to her chest to look at the charm. "I don't know how he did it, but he tucked it away in one of my drawers! He must have done it last night before he left." Her cheeks turned a most intense shade of red, and she laughed. "It's so pretty, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded, happily in agreement. "Yes, it is!"

Ginny's tone of voice hushed just slightly, and she looked at Hermione seriously. "I know you have a boyfriend too, Hermione – how come you haven't told us?"

Hermione's voice caught in her throat suddenly, and Ginny must have recognized her shock at the forwardness of her question. The youngest Weasley quickly added: "I know you're busy with your projects and preparing for your upcoming N.E.W.T. exams, but there is no way all of the time you're away is simply because of that!" As Hermione's cheeks turned red to match her friend's flaming hair, Ginny smiled. "You haven't said anything because you didn't want to hurt Ron, right?"

Accepting this reason as legitimate, Hermione nodded quickly. "Oh, yes, of course that's why. I didn't want him to feel hurt because I've found someone."

"Is it serious?" Immensely intrigued, Ginny had leaned forward towards Hermione, as if their gossip was about someone else within the common room. Hermione tipped her head forward as well.

"Yes, it is. Quite serious. I think I'm in love!" Hermione's whispers were very excited. But suddenly, she hushed her voice once more, and added: "But please, don't say anything to Ron. Not yet, I'm not ready for either of them to know – I'm not ready for _anyone_ to know."

"Of course, Hermione," Ginny responded honestly. "Who is it? He can't be in Gryffindor – we would have seen you!"

Hermione shook her head, nervously. This conversation was quickly treading into territory she was not prepared to enter, and thought it best to keep the clues to a very bare minimum; enough to satisfy her friend's curiosity, but no further.

"No, he's not in Gryffindor."

"I bet he's in Ravenclaw, isn't he? There are some very cute boys in Ravenclaw, and a lot of them are plenty smart enough for you!" Ginny laughed, touching Hermione's arm gently. "He certainly can't be in Hufflepuff, or Slytherin…"

Hermione smiled slightly. _No, he isn't in Hufflepuff_. She thought to herself. Hermione breathed a relieved sigh as the common room began filling with students, interrupting their conversation.

"Well, once you're ready, I'll be happy to know who it is!" Ginny whispered as she saw Harry and Ron come barreling down the staircase.

She rose to meet Harry, kissing him sweetly and thanking him for his gift. She whispered something in his ear, which made the Boy Who Lived react with a blush and a laugh, tousling his messy black hair with his hand nervously. Hermione smiled, envious for just a moment that she could not be so open about her feelings towards Severus.

"Breakfast?" Ron suggested, and the four friends headed down happily to the Great Hall.

* * *

><p>When Severus woke that morning, he was surprised to find that he was alone in his bed. Where Hermione had lain beside him was cool to his touch, but as he nuzzled his face into her pillow, he could still catch the scent of her hair. Pacified, he laid there for a moment, drinking in her smell, before realizing, with a shock, that the normally black pillowcase had turned bright, bright pink beneath his hands.<p>

He sat suddenly in his bed, staring at the pillowcase, which faded almost immediately to its former color. His brow furrowed for a moment, considering the phenomenon, but quickly shrugged it off. His eyes just hadn't adjusted to wakefulness yet, he wagered, and he rose from his bed.

As he showered, he considered the evening ahead that he had planned. They hadn't discussed the holiday, but Severus wanted to rejoice in the beauty of his relationship with Hermione, and what better way than to honor the holiday?

He decided he would lead Hermione to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. There was a place beneath a tree upon a small hill that he often visited on his own, where the scenery was just absolutely beautiful. It was there he would give to her the gift he prepared for her. His stomach was tight with anticipation for the evening, and yet his day had barely begun!

As Severus turned off the water, he reached for a towel, and – much to his surprise – the fabric turned a most obnoxious shade of pastel purple. He frowned at this, staring at the towel in his hands, and it took but a second to realize that his darling lover was to blame for this nonsense. He wanted to feel irritated at her childish prank, but he couldn't help but smile slightly. He must love her quite a lot to deal with this!

A wider smile crossed his lips. _I do_. He thought to himself. _More than I ever thought possible._

As he opened the door to his closet, he realized with sudden horror that she had charmed _all_ of his robes to varying shades of red, from bubblegum pink to crimson. Bewildered, he stared at the abomination that was his closet.

* * *

><p>When they entered the Great Hall, there were many beautiful glittering ornaments hanging in the air. The students were all aflutter with excited discussion, sitting down at their tables and beginning their meals.<p>

As Hermione took her seat at Gryffindor table, she was all smiles. She had tried her best to suppress any giggle that may escape her, but despite her best efforts, her friends noticed her cheerful mood. Ron was the first to comment.

"You're unusually happy for a Valentine's Day, Hermione!" he said to her, smirking.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, Ron!" she laughed. "I just woke up in a very good mood, I suppose."

She glanced up at the High Table, where Severus was just taking his seat. He did not look terribly pleased, but she swore she noted just the slightest glint in his eye. She giggled to herself as she imagined his reaction when he opened his closet to find the rainbow of reds that were his robes, and how he must have struggled to figure out what it was she used to charm them. Little did he know, that the spell she cast upon his hands (carefully planned as to where off before classes) to change whatever he touched, at random, a different color, had the same effect upon his robes. He must have wracked his brain for a good while that morning, only to find as soon as he clutched his decided color that it faded to black.

She watched him furtively for a moment longer, a grin spreading across her face as he caught her eye. His eyes rolled in a long-suffering gesture of "I can't believe you're this childish, Miss Granger!" and as he reached across the table to grasp a jug of milk, the item turned bright pink under his touch. His eyes fell on her once more, and though his face bore clear irritation, she knew he found _some_ humor in her playful little trick. It was a subtle charm, only working at complete random, so that Severus was surprised every time it triggered. It appeared to be working!

When she glanced to Dumbledore, the old wizard was also wearing a sheepish smile. While she knew he did not approve of their relationship, he did indeed find some amusement in her prank. Severus shot him a malicious glare, and continued on with his morning meal. McGonagall had also taken note of what was happening, and she smiled playfully as well, exchanging an approving glance with Dumbledore.

The Headmaster looked down at Hermione, and his face wore an expression nearly condoning her surprise for her lover. McGonagall clearly was unaware of the perpetrator, but found Severus' frustration quite amusing.

Hermione returned to her meal, trying to suppress her amusement at Severus' aggravation. She no doubt would hear from him later, and possibly endure a _severe_ punishment for her actions! Her cheeks pinked as she thought of the evening – though they had not discussed any particular celebration, it was Hermione's first Valentine's with anyone special – and she was looking forward to it.

Suddenly, the room was filled with the noisy flutter of hundreds of beating wings, and the students looked up. A barrage of owls flew into the Great Hall, dropping letters and valentines into the laps of the students.

Hermione received two valentines, Ginny received three, Ron received at least seven (Hermione didn't bother to count, but there were quite a few), and Harry was nearly covered with cards as the owls departed.

Ginny smiled. "It looks like I may have some competition! Should I be jealous?"

Harry offered her an apologetic look and fumbled through the mess of cards to find one particular valentine. He looked at her again, smiled slightly, and opened the card. She picked through hers to find the one from him, and as they read their greetings, they exchanged a small, private glance, that spoke volumes that could not be heard.

Ron combed through his valentines as well. Hermione smiled, knowing that through his various rendezvous with different girls, he had gained several admirers. While she did not approve of his toying with the hearts of so many, he seemed happy, and that was all she could hope for.

She opened the envelope with a familiar, tight scrawl, smiling to herself, the only indication that it was from Severus was an 'S' in the corner of the card. He had included there a discrete invitation to meet him in his office at seven that evening.

She slipped the valentine into her pocket, resisting the urge to glance up at the professor. Slowly opening the second card, she eyed it carefully, reading the message, and with no indication of who sent it, she set it down once more. She fleetingly suspected it was from the same individual who sent her the wine, but with no clues to the identity, she really couldn't know for sure.

"Who were your valentines from, Hermione?" Harry asked her. Ginny had looked at Hermione, an approving smile on her face.

"I don't know," she replied. "They're anonymous." At this, Ginny smiled almost knowingly.

Towards the end of breakfast, the charm had all but completely worn off, and Severus was now enduring long periods of time without any of the objects he touched changing color. When the meal was over, Hermione and her friends were leaving the Great Hall, chattering happily. They were discussing their Valentine's evening plans, but all Hermione could think about was what Severus had in store for her when she arrived. It would be a long day indeed!

* * *

><p>The moods of the day were rather contagious, and Severus found himself sharing in the joy that infected the castle that day. Though his elation was carefully hidden, he was not as critical towards his students as usual, and the Houses found their points relatively untouched.<p>

When one of his seventh-year Hufflepuff students jokingly suggested a project of a love potion (though quietly and to a nearby classmate), Severus overheard. Unwilling to miss the opportunity, he turned quickly on the student, a malicious sneer crossing his face.

"What, Malcolm," he began, his voice oily. "Can you not find yourself a date of your own accord that you must resort to bewitchment?"

The student buried his face in his textbook, amidst giggles from surrounding students. Satisfied, Severus turned from the boy and swept to the front of the classroom to begin his lesson. Overall, it was a successful class period, which Severus came to expect from this group of students. After he assigned an essay for homework and informed them of their upcoming exam, he dismissed them.

The students stood, groaning and complaining about the onslaught of work they had just been given. As a young Gryffindor was leaving, Severus overheard her sarcastic, "Happy Valentine's to you too, Professor Snape." A small smirk crossed his face as he turned to face his desk, gathering the more valuable items into his arms to put away in his office before the lunch period. Needless to say, when he grasped a book, he was surprised when the leather binding suddenly changed to a lovely magenta color. Pulling his hand back quickly, allowing the book to return to its normal brown leather, he turned on his heel.

Hermione was standing behind him, poorly concealing the smile that was threatening to break free. Her hands were behind her back, and he noticed the end of her wand peeking out from behind her. He had thought the classroom had emptied already, including his young lover, and was both pleasantly surprised with her presence and slightly aggravated with her incessant prank.

"Did you like my surprise this morning?" she asked as she followed him into his office, carrying in her hands some of the items for which he would have had to make a second trip.

"It was unexpected," he growled, raising an eyebrow at her as he was hunched over his desk, organizing the items. As a stack of essays suddenly turned purple beneath his touch, he stopped. "You, apparently, found it quite amusing." He removed his hand from the stack of parchment, and as they slowly returned to their normal color, he rolled his eyes.

"I think Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall did as well," she replied with a small laugh as she recalled their faces during breakfast.

"I must admit I was relieved that it wore off before class," the Potions Master took her in his arms warmly, kissing her gently.

"I could never do that," she said, her brow furrowed. "I would hate to embarrass you in front of your students. Imagine if the great feared Professor Snape lifted a vial, criticizing the contents within, when suddenly the entire thing turned pink! Oh, no. I could never do that!"

A small chuckle escaped the Potions Master as he kissed her head and then took a seat behind his desk. "I may not have forgiven you for that, Miss Granger." He watched, his amusement very obvious, as her expression changed quickly from concern to something much different, something happier. "Though now that you are here," he growled. "It seems you have charmed me yet again."

"Happy Valentine's day, Severus," she whispered into his chest as she pulled him close to her. "I love you."

"Happy Valentine's, Hermione," he replied, leaning down to her to kiss her gently. "I assume you are available this evening?"

"Of course!" she replied excitedly, pulling away from him quickly. "I can't wait to see what you have planned!"

He took hold of her hand, studying the ring that it wore. Gently, he brought it to his lips, kissing the gemstone first, then her hand, and brought the warm palm to his cheek, his eyes flickering closed to the sensation of her soft hand against his rough face. After a tender moment, his dark eyes opened once more to meet her gaze, and she was smiling kindly.

"I never knew it was possible to feel this way for anyone," she said to him, her voice quiet, but certain.

"Love is a many marvelous thing, my dear Hermione," his voice was soft as he leaned down to her, kissing her. "It changes you."

"Yes, it does," she replied softly after breaking from his passionate kiss. "It certainly does."

Traditionally, Severus Snape was not one to pay much notice to the arbitrary sentimentality that infected the fourteenth of February, but this year was much different for the Potions Master. Traditionally, he would have stalked the hallways, deducting house points mercilessly as he tore apart young couples. But this year – this year, his bitterness towards "young love" had abated, and while he knew that their feelings paled in comparison to his own, he could relate to their shameless bliss. In fact, if anything, they made him slightly envious, as he only wished he could hold his lover's hand in public, declaring their romance to the world!

After a gentle, quiet moment of simply staring into each other's eyes, Hermione released a small laugh. "Ginny accused me of having a boyfriend this morning."

At this, Severus sat down in his chair, resting his elbows on his desk, almost pensively. He raised a curious eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yes, this morning," Hermione took a seat on Severus' desk, her legs dangling between his. His hands, almost instinctively, came to rest on her thighs, his thumbs gently stroking her. "She said she knew why I was gone so often, that it had to be because I had a secret boyfriend. Hardly the word I'd use!" her laughter delighted Severus, and there was a glittering in his black eyes that Hermione came to know as his way of showing his happiness. "But she also reasoned that I hadn't said anything to avoid hurting Ron – and I accepted that reason as true, of course."

For a moment, she paused, and Severus could tell she was aching. Her expression changed from amusement to something much more melancholy, and he suddenly had the urge to draw her into his arms and protect her from all the darkness in the world. What was worse, for the Potions Master, was that it was due to him she was in so much pain. He moved his hands to her waist, tightening his grip there reassuringly, his dark eyes boring into her own.

"I wish I could tell them, Severus. They're going to be so upset with me when they find out after we graduate, and learn that we've been together for almost a year by then," her bottom lip quivered for just a moment, as though she was about to break out in tears, and she stifled it. "I just wish there was a way we could know, for certain, that if they found out, no one else would."

Severus nodded. "I know, Hermione."

She sighed, defeated, her shoulders sagging under the weight of her disappointment. After a moment, she raised her head and kissed Severus. "I think if they knew just how happy we are, they would come to accept us."

"As irrational and immature as Potter is" – and at this, Hermione glared, but said nothing – "I don't believe he is the one we have to be concerned about. He is as aware as you my role in this war, and that without my services, the Order – the side of the light – would be at a catastrophic disadvantage." Severus paused, his hands frozen on her legs, as though he was deep in thought. "In fact, I believe the one who would not take well to this is Weasley."

"I believe just the same, Severus," Hermione replied, her hands coming to rest on his own. "I think Harry would accept it, but Ron would struggle to swallow the news."

"For now, Hermione," Severus said softly, and he paused, as if changing his mind suddenly. "The time will come."

Hermione nodded, leaning into him as though the weight of her troubles were too much for her to bear. Severus enveloped her tightly in his strong arms, kissing the top of her head affectionately. She nuzzled her face into his warm chest, the smell of him overwhelming her senses and calming her nerves.

When finally she pulled from him, he tipped her head back with his finger to look into her eyes. The feelings that filled him whenever he met her amber gaze were like nothing he could remember, and it caused his chest to swell with love for her. He leaned down to her, kissing her deeply, and breathed into her ear.

"I love you, Hermione." A small, barely noticeable smile tugged at the corner's of Severus' mouth. "Today, you should be happy. It is a day that celebrates love. It celebrates us."

Hermione pulled from him and nodded, her mood improved. "You're right. I love you, Severus!" She hopped down from his desk. "I should go – lunch is almost over and I am starved!"

"Indeed, get yourself something to eat. I shall see you at seven o'clock?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

* * *

><p>The rest of her classes that afternoon proceeded dreadfully slowly. Hermione felt as though if one more moment of her day was spent away from her lover, surely she would break, and so as her final class of the day was dismissed, she rushed quickly to the dungeons. Granted, she was quite early, but she had work to do that afternoon regardless of Severus' plans.<p>

When she arrived in his classroom, she noticed he was absent but the door to his laboratory was open. Hurriedly, she crossed the room and to find him standing over a work station beside her own.

"Ah, Miss Granger," he growled without facing her. "The herbs we gathered last week – they are dried and ready to prepare. Would you assist me?"

Hermione set her bag down beside the door and moved to his side. Before him on the table were various vials and jars of differing sizes, and the containers of the plants they had collected from the green houses were arranged in front of the Potions Master. He handed her several jars of plants.

"These must be triturated," Severus explained quickly as he added a leafy plant to a small cauldron on the table.

"Together?" Hermione asked him as she crossed the room to acquire a mortar and pestle.

"Indeed." As she took her place beside him, he leaned to her and kissed her gently. "You have my thanks. I am a bit behind schedule for this particular tonic, and to have an extra set of hands to assist me will help expedite the process."

"It's my pleasure to help you, Severus," Hermione replied cheerfully, and she began to grind the leaves together. "What are we making?"

"Every spring, Professor Sprout uses a fertilizer – Sempervirens venenum – and she requests that I craft it for her. It is the only reason why she allowed us into her precious greenhouses last week to harvest the ingredients," Severus growled, flicking his wand at the cauldron before him. Suddenly, the liquid inside began to churn of its own accord. "As long as I agree to create her fertilizer, she provides me with infinite access to her greenhouses. Although, if I am using _her_ plants for anything but _her_ potions, she requires that I file a 'request' for the particular plants, and she will gather them for me." His voice had an unusually bitter tone to it, and Hermione suspected he was not particularly fond of the arrangement.

They worked side-by-side for an hour, and as the chimes of the school sang for dinner, Severus turned to her. She had been bottling the fine powder she had created, and as she stoppered the jar, he touched her waist.

"I do not wish to keep you from working on your project if it requires your attention, Hermione," he said softly.

"I'm just finishing here, Severus," Hermione replied, her body instinctually leaning into his touch. "I was going to finish bottling these, and then check on my draughts."

Severus nodded to her, and as she stoppered the final vial, she set the jar down and moved to her own workbench were her cauldrons were located. Quickly, she gathered her scrolls, unrolling the parchment and inking her quill. Leaning over her cauldrons, she studied the liquids inside, scrawling notes in a tidy script. Severus had paused, watching her closely, unable to tear his eyes away from her as she worked.

A moment longer he spent gazing at her, and then he returned to his task. They worked quietly together, the room filled with the sounds of gurgling cauldron, the quiet _tap-tap-tap _of Severus' blade, and the scratching of quill against parchment. When Hermione had finished her recording, she turned to Severus, her eyes flickering to her wristwatch.

"Severus, do you know what time it is?" she asked, the excitement in her voice hardly contained.

His head was tipped to the worktable beneath him, but he raised his eyes to peer at her. A small smile played about his lips. "Indeed, I do. Are you hungry?"

"Starved!" Hermione exclaimed.

With a flick of his wrist, the herbs he was preparing gathered into a small jar, which he stoppered and placed beside the rest. Then, Severus set the knife down and turned on his heel. Hermione took that as an invitation to follow him, and together, they made their way to Severus' private rooms.

As they entered his living quarters, his sitting room was instantly illuminated with the soft glow of candles. Before the fireplace, Severus had prepared a table for two, and as he strode past the table to the kitchen, a fire grew to life in the grate. Hermione's eyes, wide with wonder, stared around his rooms in awe.

"Severus! All of this – for Valentine's?" she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

He appeared from the kitchen, in his hands a platter with various dishes. "It is the first time I have had anyone to celebrate Valentine's day with, Hermione. I thought it was custom to celebrate 'firsts' extravagantly?"

Hermione hurried to his side once he set the platter down and threw her arms around his shoulders. He wrapped his arms about her, pulling her close, kissing her ear.

"Severus, this is wonderful," she whispered to him. "This is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me."

If only words could truly convey just what she had done – was doing – for _him_. She had changed him, and he knew it; he suspected even the students may have noticed a slight change in character, though he tried to maintain his cold demeanor in the classroom. Because of her, he actually believed there was a life for him once the war was over. Because of her, he may actually live a fulfilling, joyous life, without dying alone. His embrace tightened around her.

When he released her, he gestured for her to sit, and followed suit himself. As they ate their meals, they conversed quietly about everything; they touched on their days and discussed philosophy, the relevance of the study of ancient runes to religion.

By the end of their quiet meal, they had discovered a great deal more about each other than they knew when their night began. It seemed as though every evening, another door was opened into their souls – and for once, Severus was not concerned about feeling so vulnerable to another human being.

"Severus," Hermione started, and he could tell from her voice she was uncertain if she should continue. She began wringing her hands beneath the table.

"What is it, Hermione?" the Potions Master asked, a flick of his wand clearing the table.

"Are you ever going to tell me about your life as a Death Eater?"

Her question was followed by silence. Severus was caught off-guard by the forwardness of her question, but suddenly it made sense why she seemed so cautious in asking it. He had requested in the past that she not press to know about his past, but he knew she had a right. Slowly he rose from the table, coming round to pull her chair out for her. She stood as well.

"The time will come, Hermione," Severus finally answered her, pulling her chin up to gaze into her eyes. "It has not arrived, just yet. But one day, you will come to know everything about my past. And it is very likely, you will wish you had not."

Hermione shook her head, slowly. "Whatever's happened, Severus…" she paused, considering her words carefully. "I want to know about your past because it's a part of you. It may be horrible – I imagine it is – but I want to know, because it's a part of you. I love you. Nothing you've done can change that."

He leaned down to her, kissing her softly. "You are a remarkable woman, Hermione Jean Granger. Your friends are very lucky to know you. I am very lucky to hold your heart."

She touched the side of his face, her thumb stroking the contour of his cheekbone. His black eyes – usually cold and commanding – were warm to her, and she couldn't help but feel like she could get lost in those pools of light. Her lips curled into a loving smile, and she kissed his nose.

"Our evening is not quite over yet, Miss Granger," his voice was a low rumble as he nuzzled his face into her neck. "I have a bit of magic to show you. Come this way."

He led her by the hand to the door they had departed through the first evening they made love. She felt her heart flutter as she followed him through the tunnel, pulling her winter hood over her hair to keep the dirt from matting there. As they exited, Severus squeezed her hand tightly.

"There is a place I want to show you," he said to her softly. "Close your eyes and relax."

Hermione did as she was told, breathing in deeply. Suddenly, she felt her entire body warm, as though she had just submerged herself into a hot bath. Starting from her scalp, her skin began to tingle, following a path all the way to the tips of her fingers and the pads of her feet.

"Open your eyes," he said to her. "We are now unseen and we are free to walk the grounds without concern. This way!"

Slowly, they walked across the grounds. The Potions Master cast a warming charm about them so they did not suffer in the biting wind of the February night, and while behind them they left footprints in the snow, they knew they needed not worry, as there was no one else on the grounds this late in the evening.

As they walked, they simply listened to the silence around them. As they approached their destination, Severus spoke softly. "I think you are going to love this, Hermione. I come here often when I need quiet. It is a beautiful view." He turned, and Hermione followed suit.

She was not prepared for the sight before her. Lain out for her eyes stretched the snowy grounds of Hogwarts. The blanket of snow glowed with the moonlight, giving the entire scenery an almost heavenly feel. Off in the distance, the trees of the Forbidden Forest were covered in white, and off the frozen lake, the moon reflected like a mirror. Most of the castle was dark, but where there was life, there was light, creating a halo of gold around the school.

"Severus, this is… breathtaking. I can't believe I've never been here!" she cried, the view before her overwhelmingly beautiful.

"Not many students venture this far from the castle," Severus said quietly, his eyes scanning his surroundings. "It is often very quiet and peaceful here. I discovered this place while I was a student, and have returned here ever since whenever I need peace."

They stood in silence for a little while, simply drinking in the view. Hermione was awestruck by the landscape before her; she already knew that the grounds of Hogwarts were quite beautiful, but she had never seen them in such a way before. She hadn't the words to describe to Severus just how wonderful he was making her feel in that moment.

He took her hand, leading her to the ground with him and they sat at the trunk of the tree, the charm around them protecting them from the cold winter night. She rested against him, her breaths rising and falling in time with his own. She felt him reach into his pocket, and he presented her with a small box.

"Happy Valentine's day, Hermione," he whispered in her ear.

Delicately, she unwrapped the gift, and as it was revealed the box opened of its own accord. Within, a white gold pendant – a tiny vial, not unlike those that she had become so familiar with during her time in the dungeons - lay against emerald silk. Severus gently removed the necklace from the box and secured the clasp behind Hermione's neck.

"It's beautiful, Severus," she said softly. "It has the same gemstone as my ring," she said softly, lifting her hand to compare the sapphires. "And… Severus, they're glowing!"

"Foolish wand-waving has its merits," he said icily.

She turned to look at him, her eyes shiny. "Severus, you… I don't know what to say."

He leaned into her to kiss her. "Our language indeed has its limitations, especially when we speak of love."

"If someone told me a year ago that Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master, was a romantic, I would have thought them completely mad," Hermione said, smiling. "I can't believe this side of you."

If she only had any idea just how intensely Severus Snape was capable of loving.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped. "I almost forgot." From her robes, she removed a long, thin box. "For you!"

Severus looked at her, rather surprised, though he knew he shouldn't be. _This is what couples do on Valentine's Day, Severus._ He told himself as he peeled away the paper, revealing a small, leather-bound book. Embossed on the cover in gold were the words _Shakespeare's Sonnets_. He looked up at Hermione.

"I've personalized it a bit," she said sheepishly, smiling at him. "You'll see! With as much perusing of your library as I've done, I couldn't help but notice your Shakespeare collection was shamefully lacking. And as you said, love is a many marvelous thing!"

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him, and there they spent the rest of their evening, bathed in the warmth of magic and love.


	23. Chapter 23

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

Author's Note: Thank you all for your patience. I know updates have been slow, and I do apologize. I am having trouble finding time for breathing, to be completely honest, and it looks like the next few weeks are going to be equally as stressful. But I do hope you enjoy as I continue to post, even if the updates are rather slow!

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 23**

As the evening of Valentine's closed, Hermione and Severus returned to his rooms. There, they had consumed each other in passionate love, and had drifted to sleep somewhere beyond midnight. Hermione tangled her small body within the limbs of Severus, her head resting against his chest, her arm draped across him.

The following morning, she woke with a start. Groggily, she peered through the curtains, the sun just rising above the trees in the distance. She rubbed at her eyes and was surprised, pleasantly, by the soft glow of the gemstones of her jewelry. She turned towards Severus, sleeping soundly beside her. Gently, she stroked the side of his face with her fingers, tucking his hair behind his ear.

Her lips curled into a seductive smile as a thought occurred to her. She carefully maneuvered herself out from under Severus' heavy limbs and slowly slithered beneath the covers. Teasingly, she began stroking very gently at his soft member, and it reacted almost instantly under her touch. As if instinctively, the Potions Master repositioned his body, opening his legs so she could climb between them, and she wrapped her fingers around his manhood, stroking him into hardness.

She took him in her mouth, and it wasn't much longer until he was fully erect. She sucked at him vigorously, her tongue massaging the underside of his organ, her hand pumping the shaft. A small moan escaped the Slytherin Head and Hermione felt his hand rest on the back of her head, guiding her movements along his throbbing member.

As he neared his climax, his body tensed and his groans became louder and more frequent. Hermione could taste a salty liquid on her tongue before he ever released into her mouth, and he gasped her name. Strong hands grasped her under her arms, and he pulled her out from under the sheets, pulling her down to him and kissing her roughly.

"Inside…" he groaned into her ear, and she obeyed. She lowered herself onto his throbbing erection, the tightness of her causing him to gasp in pleasure. As she rode him, her movements long and slow, his head tipped back against the pillow, a low growl escaping his throat. His hands grasped at her hips, his strong arms guiding her movements; she rose until he was just barely pressed inside of her, and then she would claim all of him with her warm wetness once more. He was in complete bliss.

He pulled her down to him, her breasts pressed against his strong, warm chest, as he released within her, his fingers digging into the flesh of her back. Gently, she kissed his neck and shoulders, the roughness of his chin scratching against the soft skin of her face.

"Hermione," he gasped as his breathing slowed.

Her trail of kisses led to his lips and she explored his mouth hungrily with her tongue. His hands stroked her back, his nails tracing light pink trails into her skin, and suddenly, he turned her over onto her back. The glint in his eye was mischievous, and as he disappeared under the sheets, she gasped. His hot mouth was at her core, and in the way only he could, he pleasured her intensely, her legs quivering as she neared her climax.

Their morning together ended far too soon, to Hermione's dismay. She felt as though she had to drag herself from Severus' arms to leave safely before the rest of the students filled the hallways. He kissed her tenderly before she departed, knowing he would unlikely see her before their Occlumency lessons that evening.

As Hermione entered her rooms and prepared to shower, she couldn't help but smile. She couldn't believe just how much she loved the man she had just left; it was almost painful to be apart from him. She knew she wanted to spend her life with him, and it had only been a short five months. It was hard to believe that their relationship had roots in something so horrible and yet, she didn't think of it in that way so much anymore. Her rape still haunted her, and it most likely always would, but when she looked at Severus, it was almost as though another man entirely had possessed him that night. When she was with him, the man who raped her was merely a shadow of the man who made love to her each evening. Every evening they were together, a piece of the man who raped her died away. She hoped one day, that shadow of him would dissipate completely.

But until then, she was ready to accept his molestation of her as a portion of their past that they could neither forget nor fear.

* * *

><p>"Hermione," Ron greeted as she sat down at Gryffindor table. His freckled face was twisted into a knowing grin. "You never came back to the common room last night."<p>

As she climbed over the bench to sit down beside Ginny, she looked up at Ron. This was not a conversation she was planning to have that morning, and despite waking beside Severus and having a lovely morning with him, her mood soured slightly. She detested the thought of having that particular conversation, and while she wanted very much to divulge to them she was in fact seeing somebody – which was, she knew, what they suspected – she was not prepared to handle the barrage of questions that would follow.

"I got back late, so I went straight to my rooms," Hermione said nonchalantly, fixing herself a plate of food.

Ginny seemed to be very interested in her own meal, and did not look up to join the conversation. Ron started to grin, knowingly, but as Hermione caught sight of his change of expression, she immediately halted his train of thought.

"Ron, I was with Professor Snape last night," she sighed. It was very true, though they knew not to what extent!

"You mean to tell me the sour ol' git kept you that late on Valentine's Day?" Ron asked, as though surprised.

"I chose to work through the evening, Ron." Hermione started picking at her breakfast, and then continued: "Valentine's really hasn't much significance to me."

It pained her to lie so blatantly to her friends, and she dreaded the moment when she would actually confess to them the truth. Fleetingly, she wondered if they would recall all the lies, if they would remember every evening she never returned when she said she would, and all the lunch and dinners she missed – and if they would be furious with her. The thought tied her stomach into knots, and her appetite was extinguished.

Ron scoffed at her. "Please, Hermione! You were in such a good mood yesterday, and you got two valentines! You mean neither of them was from a secret boyfriend?"

"When do I have time for that, Ron?" she asked, her voice suddenly critical and very annoyed.

The redhead frowned at her sudden retort, and thought a moment before he chose his response. Harry, clearly recognizing the beginning sparks of an explosive fight, interjected with a comment about the new strategy he was working on for Quidditch. Hermione welcomed the distraction, turning back to her meal and pushing the food around on her plate.

The end of breakfast could not have come any sooner, and as Hermione hurried off to her first class for the day, Ron and Harry hung back, exchanging glances.

"Girls, mate," Ron shook his head. "I'll never get 'em."

"Perhaps if you minded your own business," Ginny snapped. "She's under a lot of stress this year and you are not helping!"

"She's the one that wanted to work with Snape," Ron replied, shortly. "She should have known."

* * *

><p>As the end of the day drew near, Hermione found herself overwhelmed by her thoughts. She was growing increasingly wary of lying to her friends, the guilt of the act eating away at her conscience. Severus made her so happy, and she wished she could share that happiness with her friends – but she couldn't, and it was causing her distress. Every time she had to lie to them, it seemed as though it felt worse for her, and she was afraid it would get to the point where her guilt would be the tell-tale sign that something was amiss, and her friends would catch on.<p>

She hadn't any idea it was bothering her as much as it indeed was until breakfast that morning, when she was suddenly very irritable that Ron was pushing. Rationally, she knew she had no reason to be so upset with her friends for their curiosity, but she knew that, because they asked questions, she would be forced to lie, and it was frustrating her.

Before reporting to the dungeons for her Occlumency lesson, Hermione collapsed on her four-poster bed. Crookshanks was curled up on her pillow and she pulled the cat close to her, nuzzling her face into his fur. His smell, his fur, his purring – it was all soothing to the Head Girl, and she drank in the familiarity of it. Last year was so simple compared to her final year at Hogwarts. She would have even preferred the chaos of their fourth and fifth years – combined! – over what she was enduring now.

Exhausted, Hermione rolled onto her back. Scratching at Crookshank's neck absently, she stared at the canopy above her bed. For a moment, she thought perhaps she was actually _regretting_ her love for Severus – something she never thought possible. She ached to be without him, and yet, at that very moment, while she lay frustrated in her own bed… there was a certain amount of hostility building within her for the man. She closed her eyes, tears threatening to press through. Did she make a mistake by loving that man?

How could she think that? Her fingers grasped the beautiful pendant around her neck that he had given her just yesterday. The gemstone glittered in the light, but its glow was dulled; Severus was all the way in the dungeons. She loved him more than she ever thought possible, and that was a fact she was confident in. And he loved her.

Why was she so angry with him all of a sudden? As she thought of him, a certain rage boiled within her, as though he had done something to warrant her fury at him. He did nothing, and she knew it. But because of him, she was in this awful mess – because of him, she had to lie to her friends, to her parents, to everyone she had ever cared for. Just because she loved him!

He didn't do anything? Hermione suddenly realized with horror that he did indeed do something to warrant her anger. He had raped her. Of course she should be angry at him! Clutching the covers of her bed in her hand, she willed her nerves to calm. That was months ago, she told herself. They had shared such loving intimacies since then. Her rape was inconsequential, it was irrelevant.

Four o'clock ticked by as Hermione lay in her bed, her mind mulling. Her amber eyes flickered to the clock on her desk, and she frowned. She knew she should head down to the dungeons, but at the moment she had no desire to see Severus at all.

How was it possible she could feel two such extremes within twelve hours? Stifling her foul mood, Hermione heaved her bag onto her shoulder and slowly made her way to the dungeons.

* * *

><p>Severus was sitting inside his office, pouring over an open book with a quill in his hand. He was preparing an exam for the fourth years, and while he was vaguely aware of the time, he was not counting the seconds until her arrival. When he peered up to the clock on his cabinet, he was curious to notice that it was well past four-thirty, and for her to be tardy was unlike her. Briefly, he felt concern rise in his chest.<p>

_No._ He thought to himself harshly. _Not again._

Turning back to the parchment on his desk, Severus returned to his task, trying to quell his concern. It wasn't until quarter 'til five that Hermione finally stormed into his classroom, and Severus wouldn't have even noticed if she hadn't violently slammed his classroom door. The Potions Master was reasonably startled by the sudden crash, and snapped his head up from the exam. He caught a glimpse of her flowing hair and robes trailing behind her as she moved straight to the laboratory.

Cocking an eyebrow, Severus slowly rose from his desk. He did not believe she had anything to work on for her projects; her two draughts had to mature over several weeks, and he did not plan to assign her third potion until next week. If she intended on working on her report, she normally did so by his side in his office – and even so, it was the evening for one of their Occlumency lessons. He couldn't help but wonder what her intentions were this evening. He also didn't neglect to notice that she had completely ignored him.

When the slam of his laboratory door rattled the jars on the shelves in his office, Severus suddenly felt his own anger rise. She had no right to behave in this matter, despite what had occurred during her day. Setting his quill down, he swept from his office and to the laboratory. Pulling open the door, he spotted his apprentice bent over a table, her hand busily scratching notes onto a long piece of parchment. What he did not expect was the atmosphere of the laboratory to be as hostile as it was.

She did not notice his entrance, and for a long while he stood in the doorway, simply observing her. Something was definitely amiss in her behaviors; she was incredibly tense, her hands trembling. She fumbled several times with different vials, nearly spilling the contents of a few. The faint hiss of electricity crackled through her hair, and while it was a trait he found both endearing and amusing, he knew it was symptom of anger.

Carefully, he spoke quietly. "Is there something wrong, Hermione?"

Despite his caution, she reacted with a start, and a violent jerk of her arm sent her inkwell spilling to the floor. Turning to him, her face was contorted into a menacing scowl. "Just let me be." Her voice cracked on the last word, and she turned back to her work.

Severus remained in the doorway for a moment longer, his curiosity far from abated. As she hunched over her work, he noticed a subtle tremor in her tense shoulders. She was crying.

"Hermione," his voice was uncharacteristically tender.

Slowly, he crossed the room, coming to stand behind her. He raised his hand to her back, and to his surprise, she shrugged away from his touch.

"Don't touch me," she hissed.

Severus was very confused. They had a beautiful morning together! While she had been absent for lunch, he had not paid much mind to it; on several occasions she would go to her rooms for privacy during the free period, and he had grown accustomed to her absence. She didn't seem terribly enthused at breakfast, but without having the opportunity to speak with her at any point during the day, he hardly believed he had done anything to upset her. Her behavior was very odd to him, indeed.

"Did something happen?" he asked.

"Just leave me alone."

Suddenly, the anger he began feeling in his office resurfaced and his patience for her mood grew painfully slim. He circled the desk, coming to stare at her across it, his dark eyes angry.

"You will _not_ speak to me like that in my laboratory," he growled.

"Or what?" Hermione snapped. "What'll you do? Kick me out? Fail my project?"

What the hell was going on with her? Severus was nearly completely perplexed at her behavior, and to be at a complete loss for words was unusual for the Potions Master. She _never_ behaved like this – neither as his student nor his lover. She was acting as though she was angry with _him_, and he hadn't any clue as to why – and with having done nothing wrong, he was growing weary of her attitude.

"Hermione," he said, his control over his anger waning. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Just go," she growled. She was being careful not to say his name, and he could not understand why!

"Excuse me?" Severus hissed. "This is _my_ laboratory, these are _my_ supplies. If there is going to be anyone barking orders, it will be _me_." He paused, leaning onto the desk and grasping its edges tightly.

A tense moment passed in silence. Severus' fingers flexed around the edge of the table, the grasp tightening until his knuckles were paper white. Hermione's hands were trembling as she tried to write. Her script was untidy, and she finally gave up trying to write anything at all.

"I'm sick of lying," she finally said, her voice tightly controlled. "I'm tired. I'm tired of hiding, I'm tired of lying." She finally looked up at him, and while her brow was furrowed in anger, her eyes were shiny and wet. "I can't do this anymore."

Severus' stomach clenched at her words, and suddenly he felt quite sick. What was she saying? His eyes dropped to the pendant around her neck, the ring on her finger; the stones were glowing intensely.

"I'm not like you," she said quietly. "I can't lie to everyone."

"Hermione," he said softly. "What—"

"I don't know!" she cried, burying her face in her hands. "I… I don't know."

Severus stared at her for a moment, completely flabbergasted. Her shoulders were shaking as she cried into her hands, and so badly he wanted to pull her into his embrace. So badly, he wished to take away her pain. He reached across the table to touch her face, but she pulled away. His hand, now shaking, lowered to the desk.

"It has to remain this way," he said. "For your safety."

"I know," she cried. "But—" Her voice faltered. "I don't know if I can keep doing this."

"What happened?" Severus asked. He felt as though his heart was slowly being torn from his chest. The scars that Lily had left suddenly began to ache once more, and as his legs weakened, the Potions Master took a seat.

She shook her head, rubbing at her eyes violently to push the tears away. "I just… I'm so sick of lying, of avoiding questions. My friends know something's going on but they have no idea why I'm always gone. Where I am. What I'm doing. Why I miss Harry's Quidditch matches, why I never go to Hogsmeade with them… they keep asking, and I keep lying. I can't do it anymore."

His heart was racing in his chest and silently, he chastised himself for allowing a woman to raise such emotion in him. Severus Snape, Potions Master and ex-Death Eater, being reduced to a timid teenager afraid of having his heart broken? He couldn't explain why he wished so badly to hear her say his name.

"I just… I don't know if it's worth it anymore," she cried. "Love shouldn't hurt like this."

If he wasn't afraid of vomiting, he would have laughed. She hardly knew what love was if she didn't believe it was supposed to hurt. His entire life was dedicated to the memory of the only woman he had loved before her, and every day he woke, his heart ached for that woman. Every breath he took was laced with the essence of her; his every step was laden with guilt for her death; every time he looked at her son, a piece of his soul shattered… if only Hermione had realized she had just begun healing the open wounds that Lily had left.

But as soon as she had begun healing them, she tore off the scab, only to leave the Potions Master bleeding and broken.

For fear of pushing her away, Severus rose suddenly from the table. Hermione's eyes watched him, glistening in the soft glow of the light surrounding them, as he stalked from the room. If he stayed there to hear her speak any longer, he was afraid he would wall himself off from her, callously mocking her feelings to protect his own. He could never forgive himself if he hurt her.

He closed the laboratory door behind him quietly. He felt detached from his body somehow, as though his anger was more than he could manage. Pacing the room like a caged tiger, he felt his fury rising within his chest. He grabbed hold of a vial, squeezing it so tightly he was surprised it didn't break in his grip.

Suddenly, he whirled around, the vial flying across the room and crashing against the wall. It shattered, the glass scattering in all directions and the thick black liquid within dripping down the stone. His breathing was labored and heavy, his thin lips white in his fury. He knew she had to have heard the shattering glass, and he didn't care. He picked up another jar, and with the same burst of rage, it soared across the room and shattered violently. The powder within burst into a cloud, slowly settling to the ground.

In a final explosive act of uncontrollable rage, Severus grasped the neck of a tall, heavy glass jar and heaved it at the door to his lab. It crashed into the cabinet beside the door, shattering the glass door and showering shards to the ground. The solution in the jar splashed all over the interior of the cupboard, the small vials of various reagents within shattering and scattering their contents. The shelves collapsed under the violent weight, and suddenly, the entire cabinet fell to the ground.

Hermione wrenched open the door to the laboratory in alarm and stared in horror at the broken cabinet. Severus was standing in front of his desk, his chest heaving, his face flushed. Hermione looked from him to the glass scattered throughout the room. She had heard the crash of glass through the door, and knew he was angry – but she had not expected him to destroy the cabinet as he had. Turning to him, she felt her stomach clench.

The silence weighing in on them was only broken by the quiet drip of the thick liquid on the wall splashing to the ground. Hermione's gaze was fixed on Severus, almost petrified to move. As if he had been possessed by some violent force, the color left his face and his body relaxed, and he stared around the room. He seemed as horrified by his uncontrollable rage as she was.

"Severus," she said softly, approaching him.

He looked at her suddenly, as though he had forgotten she was even there. When she reached him, she touched his hand gently. "Severus," she said again.

"If you are regretting your decision," he said coldly, his gaze piercing her. It took him a moment to continue his statement, and when he did, his voice was hesitant, as though he couldn't bear speak the words he had intended. "…there will be no repercussions in relation to your project."

She stared at him, tears squeezing their way onto her cheeks. She realized in that moment she could not bear to live without this man, and suddenly all of her deceit seemed worth the pain it caused her. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, crying into his robes.

He stared down at her, his body enveloped in her arms, her face buried into his chest. Slowly, he brought his arms around her, pulling her closer, and touched his lips to her head. She relaxed under his kiss, her arms squeezing him tighter.

"I'm sorry," she cried into his chest. "I'm so sorry."

Severus breathed deeply, willing his nerves to settle. His entire body was trembling from harboring so much anger, and yet in her embrace he seemed to calm. He did not want to lose this woman, and his fit of uncontrollable rage convinced him of that. He rarely lost his temper like that – and while he stood there, holding her, he realized it scared him immensely that he had been so angry with her. The cabinet could be repaired, but how on Earth could he trust himself not to hurt her like that?

She tipped her head back, and instinctually, he leaned down to her. She caught his lips with her own, and her tongue met his in gentle caresses. She waved her wand and the classroom door locked, and she lowered herself to the cold stone floor, bringing Severus with her. He slid his arm beneath her head, giving her something softer than the stone floor to rest against, and as he kissed her, his free hand combed through her hair. Her face was wet with her tears, which had not yet ceased.

"Severus, I'm so sorry," she gasped as he pushed her head back and began coddling her neck. "I'm so sorry."

His gentle kisses traced her jaw, up to her ear, and back down to her shoulders. He repeated his path on the other side, her soft sighs causing his body to react. As he felt himself hardening, he opened her school robes, kissing her chest through the fabric of her sweater. His kisses followed a trail from between her breasts to her stomach, and as he descended the length of her body, he bumped into a desk behind him. The desk crashed to the ground, and the loud noise seemed to bring Severus to his senses.

"Not here," he hissed as he sat up from her, pulling his lips from her exposed belly."We can't – not here."

"Severus," she whispered, grasping him round the collar and pulling him down to her once more. "Severus – it's okay. I'm okay."

Severus shook his head. "No—"

"Severus, it's part of us. It will always be a part of our past – we need to move past it," she said quietly, her lips planting gentle kisses along his throat.

"Hermione, I can't—" His protests were silenced by her lips. Hastily, her hands fumbled with his robes, struggling to push them off of him.

Finally, he seemed convinced, and he shrugged out of his robes. He lowered himself to her lips, kissing her gently.

"Severus, I'm so sorry," she whispered in his ear. "I love you. I should never have doubted it."

While his tongue searched her mouth, his hips rocked into her core. Hermione released a quiet moan, her fingers tracing lines down his back to his trousers, where she gently touched his hardening manhood.

"I love you, Hermione," he growled into her ear, the low rumble of his voice reverberating through her body. His hand slid down her chest to her thighs, where the tantalizing touch through her jeans made her entire body shiver with anticipation. He knew he needed to do nothing more to her to prepare her for his entrance.

"Make love to me," she panted between jagged gasps for air. Her hips were rocking into his hand, his light touch almost torturous through her clothing. "Make love to me, Severus."

He slipped her pants down to her feet and she kicked them off. She unfastened his trousers, removing his organ from the confines of his underwear. Her grip was tight around the shaft, stroking it rhythmically before moving it to her warm wetness.

Severus stared deeply into her eyes, and through the lust that burned in their depths he recognized her love for him. He pressed a kiss to her mouth as he pushed his way into her, a moan escaping him as her tightness surrounded him.

His thrusts into her were slow and long; he was so deep inside of her that it was almost pleasurably painful. Her groans of pleasure in his ear drove him mad with lust, and the louder she moaned, the harder he pushed into her. He held himself back until she climaxed and the rhythmic spasming of her sex caused him to release within her.

His body was damp with sweat, his face flushed with passion as he leaned down to kiss her deeply. She returned the gesture, her hands sliding over the moist fabric of his shirt. Pressing her forehead to his, she gazed deep into his eyes, and smiled gently.

"No matter how hard it is to lie to my friends," she said softly, "It's worth it to be with you. I can't believe for a second I doubted it."

He snaked his arms around her back, lifting her to him as he sat up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms draped across his shoulders, sitting in his lap on the cold stone floor. Severus could not begin to explain how happy she had just made him, and he couldn't even begin to understand the emotional turmoil she had caused in him. From anger to sadness to fear to love to joy – at her hand, he experienced what seemed like the full range of human emotion.

As he stared into her eyes, he was suddenly overwhelmed with the strongest urge: he wanted to spend his life with this woman, no matter what the cost. He leaned back away from her, pulling her hand over his shoulder, and he gently fingered the sapphire ring, his black eyes leaving hers to examine the stone. It was glowing brightly, and as he looked to her chest, he could see the subtle glow of the gemstone set in her necklace through the thick fabric of her sweater.

His eyes flickered back to hers, and he grasped her hand in his. With his free hand, he slowly pulled the ring off her finger. Severus' heart was pounding in his chest, so fast he thought the muscle might collapse, and as the ring slipped over her nail and into his hands, his gaze dropped to it. Hermione's eyes were shiny as she watched his hands, as his fingers removed the sapphire ring he gave to her for Christmas.

Slowly, Severus set her arm back against his shoulder. He reached for her left hand, looking into her eyes. Carefully, his hands trembling just slightly, he slid the ring onto her left ring finger, and with a soft, trembling voice, he spoke:

"Hermione Jean Granger, will you be my wife?"


	24. Chapter 24

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 24**

Hermione's eyes widened. Severus was steadily holding her gaze, his heart beating so rapidly he didn't think it would be able to keep its pace for much longer. His right hand was grasping her left hand firmly, his thumb toying with the ring he placed there. She opened her mouth to speak, but then it closed without a word. Opened, closed.

To Severus, it was an eternity before a word was spoken. As her hesitancy became apparent, the Potions Master suddenly became very critical of acting on such a spontaneous urge; he had not planned to ask her, he had not thought it through – he simply asked. And now, he regretted it. They had only been seeing each other for five months; he may be old enough to know what it felt like to truly want to spend his life with another human being – after all, he had lived nearly half his life alone – but Hermione? She was barely eighteen. For all Severus knew, he was her first love (he did not know how Hermione had felt towards Ron, but from the information he gathered during their Occlumency lessons, the relationship was short-lived); there was no way she could know if he was the man she wanted to be with until she died.

Her hesitancy to answer confirmed that fact. Severus could not tear his eyes from hers, and briefly, he was tempted to read her, to violate her privacy – but he couldn't. What a perfect foundation to a marriage, wasn't it? Betrayal, deceit, distrust – Severus scoffed internally. His cynical mind was beginning to make him bitter as he waited for her answer.

"Severus…" Hermione began, her voice hesitant and cautious. "I… I need time."

For the Potions Master, she may have well rejected him. Rationally, he understood that to answer such an important proposal without thought was a moronic move, and Hermione was anything but stupid. But emotionally, he was reacting, and even though she had not actually said no, the churning of his guts suggested otherwise.

In that moment, Severus Snape only regretted raping Hermione more than irrationally asking for her hand in matrimony. There was a myriad of reasons why marrying him would be a mistake; for Severus, he realized, his asking such a question was disgustingly selfish. He could not guarantee his time on this planet, and to drag her into that – it was egocentric, as though her own feelings, her own future, were of no consequence if it meant he could be happy.

Severus kissed her gently and he nodded. Forcing compassion into his voice, he said, "Of course. I would not expect you to answer immediately. This is an important decision."

Hermione smiled nervously. "Yes, it is."

Inside, Hermione was panicking. His sudden proposal was incredibly unexpected and if she were to act on her emotions, she would have exclaimed an eager and ecstatic yes. She loved Severus more than anything in the world, and she knew she wanted to spend her life with him – nearly losing him just an hour previous made her realize just how much that was true. Her fear was that she would not feel that way in a year, or in two, or in ten; and before making such a decision, she wanted to be sure it was right for both of them. Certainly he could know if he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, he had already lived nearly half of his years on this planet. But Hermione, she still had many, many years, and would she desire to spend them with Severus?

What scared her the most, suddenly, was that he was so much older than she. He was nearly twenty years her senior; would he die twenty years earlier than she? Would she be mourning the death of her parents and her husband in grim succession? The thought made Hermione ill just to consider it. Rationally, she knew the lifespan for a wizard surpassed that of a Muggle – but by how much? How old _was _Dumbledore?

_Sitting down at the kitchen table, Hermione's father called to his daughter. Striding in quickly from the living room, Hermione turned her head in curiosity at him. Softly, he tapped the table, and Hermione took a seat._

"_Honey," he started, his voice uncertain. Hermione's interests were peaked at his hesitancy to speak._

"_Dad, what is it?" she asked him, leaning onto the table._

"_Well, you're… you're almost seventeen, and… well, I know you're with Ron. And he's a nice boy, but…"_

_Hermione's cheeks flushed. She couldn't believe her father was trying to have this conversation with her. She began to stand from the table, refusing to discuss this with him, when he grabbed hold of her wrist._

"_I just wanted to tell you… before you choose to marry someone... be sure to experience all four seasons. See how they change."_

"Severus," Hermione said steadily. "I love you. With all of my heart, all of my soul. Of that much, I am certain." She paused, as though considering her next sentence very carefully. The silence only worsened Severus' apprehension, but as a smile crossed her lips, he heaved a sigh. "My father… the summer before my sixth year, when I was dating Ron… he sat down with me, and he told me to experience all four seasons before deciding if I loved someone enough to stay with them for the rest of my life."

Anxiety abated, Severus slowly stood. Hermione pulled on her jeans and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him close to her. She had no idea just how comforting that simple gesture was for the Potions Master in that moment: his concerns rested in the fear that he had just ruined their beautiful relationship by rushing her. Her statement, her logical rationale, soothed those fears.

"Your father is a wise man," Severus said, matter-of-factly. "He failed to mention, though, that once you reach a certain age, you no longer need that experience to know if you are in love until the end."

Hermione smiled, nodding slowly. "Yes, he did fail to mention that… but it must have been the fact I was only sixteen at the time." A small laugh escaped her lips, and Severus smiled. She stroked his face gently, the rough stubble of his chin scratching against the soft pads of her fingers. "Such… such an exhausting afternoon," she whispered, resting her head against his chest.

He said nothing, but instead turned from her and approached his office. She followed him, and together, they made their way to his rooms.

* * *

><p>For Severus Snape, minutes felt like hours, hours like days, days like weeks. He was waiting (pseudo)patiently for Hermione's answer to his proposal, never once mentioning it to her. She failed to mention it as well, and while they did not spend less time together, and while no aspects of their relationship had changed – the absence of discussion about engagement made Severus ill to think of. He did not want to push her to make a decision; he wanted her to <em>want<em> to spend her life with him, not to feel like he forced her into it.

It was curious, to Severus, because he would have assumed that such anxieties would have hampered his ability to make love to her, or, at the very least, soured his mood towards her. But if anything, it seemed, he was a more passionate lover, and (if judging by her reactions) capable of pleasuring her more thoroughly. He desired her company more intensely those days following his proposal, and felt a deeper ache when she had to leave each morning.

Hermione was a rational, logical woman, and it was one of the many things he loved about her. If she had rashly answered his proposal without taking some time to consider it, it would have been uncharacteristic of her. Severus was very aware of that, and because of it he did not wish to push her to make a decision. He would wait an eternity if he must, but he would much prefer not to!

He knew it must have been on the forefront of her mind, just as it was on his. And yet, it was the one thing they both refused to mention, the metaphorical elephant in the room.

As the week ended, Severus' agitation was becoming increasingly apparent to his students. During his classes, he was brutally critical, failing to discriminate between his own students and those of the other houses. As the students worked from their cauldrons, he would pace the head of the class, his shoulders tense and his mind whirling. Occasionally, he stalked through the rows of desks, a scathing remark biting at the students as they worked. By the end of the class periods, his mood had only soured further, and the students were in no hurry to remain in the classroom longer than what was required of them.

She did not overlook this detail when she was in his class that Friday. The students' assignment was to brew an enlargement potion, and while they were busy brewing, he snaked through the aisles, his sharp tongue failing to discriminate between his students and the others. The only student who seemed to possess some immunity to his snide criticisms was Hermione, and she didn't fail to notice this fact, either. While everyone else received a scathing comment about their incompetence, Severus merely bypassed her completely.

The Head Girl did not know how to react to this. None of the other students seemed to notice; not even Malfoy, who usually couldn't keep his eyes off the couple. But even so, his temperament that Friday was off, very off, and for Severus to completely ignore her (which, a year ago, she would have preferred, but now?), she worried it may spark suspicions in others.

After the class was dismissed, Hermione lingered behind. While the classroom emptied, Hermione was deliberately sluggish in packing her things away. As the last student departed, she stood, her bag heaved over her shoulder, and began to approach his office door.

"Trouble in paradise?"

The voice was so unexpected, that when Hermione jumped, she dropped her bag. It crashed to the floor, and in a whirl, she was facing Malfoy. The Slytherin was wearing his trademark sneer, his hands tucked into his pockets. With her eyes quickly scanning the room, she noticed his bag was still by his workstation. He had never intended to leave, either.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, retrieving her bag from the floor and slinging it over her shoulder. She slowly slipped her hand in her pocket, her fingers reaching for the handle of her wand.

"Nothing in particular," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I just thought it odd that Snape was treating us Slytherins as bad as he usually treats you, Mudblood."

"And?" Hermione had little patience for this boy anymore. Her hand was tightly grasping her wand, tucked away in the pocket of her robes. Not another incident like before break. She refused to let Malfoy ever get that close to her again.

"Well, I just thought maybe I'd ask him what was wrong. Unless, of course, you know," his pointed face bore an ugly smile.

Hermione turned on her heel, tired of dealing with him. As she began to stride towards Severus' office, she panicked when she felt strong fingers grasp her wrist. Faster than she thought possible, she had spun on her heel, her wand brandished and pointed at his face.

"Don't you ever touch me," she hissed.

"Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you," he retorted. "I swear you filthy Mudbloods have no sense of respect!"

In a flash, Malfoy was suspended in the air by one of his ankles. His black school robes turned down, covering his head, while his arms flailed uselessly about in front of him, reaching for Hermione, but grasping nothing but air. He was spewing profanities at her, the volume of his voice elevated.

"You really ought to think, Malfoy," Hermione said coolly. "I don't know how many times I've bested you—"

"Granger, Malfoy," an oily voice came from behind her. It was calm and quiet, but there was no mistaking his irritation. "Care to explain yourselves?"

"That – filthy – Mudblood—augh!" Hermione, startled by Severus' sudden voice, released Draco from the curse, and he crashed painfully to the ground.

"Professor Snape," Hermione began, cautiously. He turned to her, his eyebrows raised in feigned curiosity. "I—well, he—" Grimly, she realized her argument of 'he started it' would not suffice, and she lowered her eyes to the stone floor.

Malfoy had risen from the floor, smoothing his robes out with a scowl. His piercing gray eyes never left the back of Hermione's head. Cautiously, Severus kept his eye on the Slytherin Prefect, though he knew that Malfoy would do nothing with the Potions Master present. Even yet, that glare was disconcerting to the man.

Turning his attention back to his apprentice, his voice was a low rumble. "You should know better, as Hogwarts' precious Head Girl, than to curse your classmates. Five points from Gryffindor and you shall be serving a detention with me, tonight."

Malfoy scoffed. "As if serving detention with _you_ is punishment."

Severus turned on Malfoy, his black eyes narrowed. "Last I was aware, you were not qualified to decide what is an appropriate punishment."

For a moment, it seemed that Severus had silenced Malfoy's protests. Hermione stood aside from them, watching their exchange. She had to suppress a laugh as her lover assigned her a detention, especially with him. Briefly, she pondered what sort of disciplinary actions he may take against her, and she blushed slightly; surely, it wouldn't be anything too severe, and she hoped that it would take place within his bed!

Malfoy turned from Severus, retrieving his bag from his desk. At the doorway, he stopped, his hand resting on the doorjamb, and in a quiet, disgusted voice, he whispered:

"Last I was aware, teachers didn't have sex with students."

And he left them, the heavy dungeon door slamming on its hinges. Hermione looked to Severus, who, without looking at her, had turned and stalked to his office. The smile that played about her lips slowly faded, and with concern, she followed him.

Severus was pacing behind his desk, his long black robes billowing at his feet. His hands were tense, his brow furrowed, his lips pale. Hermione gently closed the door behind her, and as it shut, she heard the quiet click of the lock. Almost simultaneously, the room felt heavier, as if the air itself was thicker, and she knew he had cast an imperturbable charm on the room. Suddenly, she felt ill, as she knew that his intention was to soundproof the room.

In a whirl of black, Severus slammed his hands on his desktop. The loud clap of flesh against wood startled Hermione, who had been sitting quietly in the chair across his desk. "What was that?" He demanded, his voice a low, dangerous whisper.

Hermione leaned back in her chair, clutching her bag to her chest. She was taken aback by his anger. "Wh-what?"

"How would you have had me handle that situation?" his voice was icy, his anger boiling under the surface.

"Severus, he—"

"I do not care what he did, Hermione." Severus' fingers wrapped around the edges of his desk, his grip so tight his knuckles were paper white. "However, I am _very_ interested in how you thought you had any right to curse another student."

"But Severus—"

"Have I not already explained to you that if you are going to act like a childish student, I shall treat you as one? You are not to garner any special privileges as a result of our relationship," Severus leaned in closer to her, his hot breath on her face.

"I don't expect to!" Hermione cried, standing suddenly from her chair. "Severus, if that's what you think—" She paused, shaking her head, as though the thought was too ludicrous to actually speak. "Severus, he grabbed me! He grabbed me, and it scared me, and so I did what I had to do to get away from him." Her voice was shrill and rapid. "I refuse to… I can't let that happen again! I won't let it happen again!" Tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "No!"

Her hands were trembling as she spoke, her eyes glossy and red from her tears. Severus backed away from her, his face softening with realization. As Hermione collapsed into the chair once more, pulling her legs to her chest, Severus knew whatever Malfoy had done, however minor an action it seemed to Severus, had definitely warranted her reaction.

"Hermione," he said, his voice soft. "While you may have very well had reason to use magic against Malfoy, I must insist that you not resort to that in the future. This is the second time, and your behavior placed me in a very bad position." Slowly, he lowered himself to his chair and folded his hands on his desk. His concern for her well-being had forced all thoughts of anger and frustration from his mind. "In order to protect you, it is imperative that in the public eye, I treat you no differently—"

"Isn't that something," Hermione said suddenly, her voice hot with anger. "You didn't seem to feel that way an hour ago! I was the only student you didn't criticize!"

Once again, Severus' patience for her insubordination was waning. He did not want to lash out at her in anger, for she very well had reason to be upset, but her insistence on grating at his nerves seemed deliberate. Leaning back in his chair, his hand grasping the arm tightly, Severus released a heavy sigh.

"Hermione, I have every reason to be irritable," he said slowly.

Severus closed his eyes, tipping his head back against the chair. He did indeed have very good reason to be so irascible. While he did not want to direct such hot-temperedness at her, it was _because_ of her he was feeling such petulance. He loosened his grip on the arm of his chair only to tighten it once more, as though trying to transfer his anger into the furniture.

She rubbed roughly at her eyes. "Severus, I'm sorry," she whispered quietly. "I don't know why I'm so sensitive lately."

"Hermione, it is reasonable that you are apprehensive around aggressive men," Severus said, his voice slow, as though he was choosing his words very carefully. "It is even more reasonable that you react defensively at the first sign of aggression." His eyes lowered to his desk. "But…"

"I just thought that perhaps Malfoy was tired of harassing me," Hermione said. "This was the first time since before break he had even spoken to me."

Severus nodded slowly. "Yes, I know."

"He knows, Severus. I have no doubt that he knows," Hermione's voice was no longer trembling, but she was still curled into a ball on the chair. "Before… I wasn't so sure. But I have no doubt now."

Severus leaned forward on his desk, combing his fingers back through his hair. He rested his forehead in his hands. "Yes, I know. What interests me is how he discovered it and why he has not yet told anyone."

Letting her legs fall, Hermione shook her head slowly. "I don't know, Severus."

The Potions Master suddenly stood, coming around the desk to Hermione. She watched him as he kneeled by her chair, grasping her left hand in his. The ring he had placed there remained, and as he stared at it, the gemstone glowing brightly, Hermione's heart started racing.

He kissed the sapphire before bringing his lips to hers. After a tender moment, he pulled away and stared into her eyes. "Hermione, I love you."

She smiled, leaning in to kiss him once more. With her hand gently stroking the side of his face, she whispered: "I love you too, Severus."

* * *

><p>Severus stared irritably at the ugly gargoyle statue that guarded Dumbledore's office. He could not comprehend the Headmaster's obsession with Muggle sweets, but he often struggled to recall the password of the week. As the Potions Master studied the statue, he had tried several passwords already, and his patience was waning.<p>

"Cherry licorice," he growled. No response. "Licorice snaps." Nothing. Severus wrapped his hand around the arm of the gargoyle, squeezing so tightly his knuckles paled white. He had not the patience to deal with this foolishness. "Butterscotch bites." Finally, the gargoyle permitted him passage, and Severus climbed the stairs.

"Come in, Severus," Albus greeted his Potions Master, holding a dish of candy to him. Severus politely refused and took a seat across from the Headmaster.

Leaning forward in his chair, Severus held his head in his hands, tangling his fingers through his hair. Dumbledore patiently waited across from him, his ancient hands folded atop his desk, his light blue eyes glittering kindly.

"Headmaster," Severus began slowly. He hadn't the slightest idea how to begin this conversation, nor the repercussions of it. _Best to just get it over with._ "I am almost certain Malfoy knows."

The Headmaster bristled at this news, shifting in his seat and leaning forward to rest on his elbows. Steepling his fingers together before him, he carefully considered the younger wizard sitting across from him, but said nothing. Severus looked up at him, the deep lines of his face exaggerated in his anxiety.

"We had our doubts, Headmaster," Severus said quietly. "But we were wrong."

Severus studied Dumbledore's face, his black eyes flickering over the deep wrinkles that told the tale of a long and difficult life. The Headmaster did not even motion to respond to his statement, and the silence weighing in on them only burdened Severus further.

Finally, Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed, Severus. I suspected this for some time, and I am not surprised that you come to me now."

Severus combed his fingers through his hair, leaning back in the chair. He let his head roll against the back of the chair, breathing a frustrated sigh.

"What I find curious, Severus," he continued, "is that they have not told anyone but me."

"I thought that strange as well," Severus replied, straightening in the chair. "Draco has been harassing Hermione nearly the entire school year, as though he knew from the moment it began. She has been forced to use magic against him in order to protect herself."

Dumbledore's face darkened as he listened to Severus. Leaning forward onto his desk, the Headmaster examined Severus' face. After a long moment, he asked: "Severus, is there something you are not telling me involving Miss Granger?"

Severus' expression did not change as he held Dumbledore's steady gaze. For a brief moment, he considered confessing to Dumbledore the exact root of their relationship, that he had in fact raped the girl he loved so dearly now, and that she had chosen not to report him because she knew just how important he was to the cause.

And then Severus' sanity returned to him, and he shook his head. "No, sir."

Dumbledore lowered his chin, eyeing Severus over his spectacles. "Very well." After a brief silence, he leaned back in his chair and removed his glasses. Pinching the crooked bridge of his nose, he allowed his eyes to close as he spoke. "Have you any idea why they would only be interested in informing me?"

Severus shook his head. "If their objective was to remove me from Hogwarts, telling as many people as possible would serve their means."

"Which leaves us with the question then, what is their objective by only informing me?" Dumbledore responded quietly.

"That is the question, isn't it?" Severus said grimly.


	25. Chapter 25

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 25**

That weekend, Hermione assisted Severus in creating the fertilizer for Professor Sprout. It was a fairly simple potion, but he did not forewarn his apprentice about just how dreadful the process truly was (he certainly had no warning his first time of doing the favor for his colleague!).

With her hair tied back and her apron tied about her waist, Hermione was busy stirring the bubbling cauldron full of green slop. The solution within was thick, about the consistency of pea soup, and just as foul. From the cauldron, a dark brown cloud billowed into the room, lingering just below the ceiling. She peered down into the cauldron just once before she was caught completely off-guard by the horrid smell that emanated from the potion.

"This… is… wretched," she gagged as the smell overwhelmed her senses.

"Indeed," Severus replied grimly, precisely measuring out the dried dragon dung. He held it over the cauldron and tipped his hand forward, allowing the matter to tumble into the solution below.

"I regret offering to help you, Severus," Hermione said, smiling slightly at her lover.

He cast her a harmless glare and turned to face the table. The smell emanating from the cauldron was slowly becoming unbearable, the brown haze that lingered below the ceiling finally filling the room from corner to corner. As they worked through the evening, Hermione eventually gave in and cast a charm that kept the smell contained within the cauldron, though Severus advised that she not control the smoke that lingered.

"I had done that myself the first time I brewed this for Pomona," Severus began, his dark gaze flickering between his lover and the cauldron before him. "I did not anticipate the pure density of that fog."

Hermione tilted her head to the side, curiously. As Severus sprinkled some crushed herb to the concoction and it rose to a rolling boil, he looked up at her.

"The cauldron exploded."

Hermione's eyes widened before she burst out laughing. The thought of Severus coated head-to-toe in that green slop was hilarious, especially considering how furious she knew he must have gotten. She only imagined he must have been an absolute sputtering mess by the end of the evening.

"I did not find it nearly as humorous as you seem to, Miss Granger," he crooned softly, his dark eyes staring into her own.

The potion began rolling violently in the cauldron, splattering onto the floor. Hermione and Severus both took a step back away from the pot, out of reach of the splashing slop. Large, murky, dripping bubbles lifted off the surface of the potion, floating precariously above the couple. Hermione raised her wand, sparks shooting out of the end to pop the bubbles without making a mess. They disintegrated in the air, only the slightest of droplets dripping to the ground.

"The benefit to doing this insufferable task," Severus began as he levitated large jars to the cauldron and filled them with the fertilizer, "is that Pomona grants me fairly unlimited access to her greenhouses, so whatever she grows is available to us."

"I don't know if it's worth it, Severus!" Hermione exclaimed, watching him distribute the potion evenly among the jars. Looking at her arms, she noticed they were stained green up to her elbows. "This is just… this is awful!" She pulled off her gloves, shocked to find that the green mess had somehow permeated her gloves, staining even her fingers and palms.

"It took me several years to find what would wash this off," Severus growled. "And I do believe Pomona received _great_ pleasure from my suffering."

Hermione giggled. "'Suffering,' Severus?"

His only response was a guttural grunt as he waved his wand, capping off the jars. As they cleaned up, Severus moved the jars effortlessly through the air with his wand, setting them by the dungeon classroom door. Hermione carried most of the vials of ingredients to the storeroom, ascending the ladder and replacing them carefully. Severus gathered what she could not, and standing at the foot of the ladder, he handed them to her, one-by-one.

As Hermione descended the ladder, Severus pulled her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her mouth. Between them lingered no more of the awkwardness that had existed earlier in the week, immediately following his proposal. While his thoughts were still plagued by it, she did not seem nearly as anxious – and he supposed that it was better than the emotionality she was displaying.

As he deepened his kiss, she tangled her fingers in his hair. Her touch alone reminded him that he was willing to wait an eternity for her answer if she needed it; waking beside her each morning reminded him that she was worth it. As he tightened his arms around her, pressing her body against his, she released a soft moan into his mouth, and below his belt, something reacted.

As she pulled away from him, she tipped her forehead against his, the cool surface of his face refreshing against her skin. She let her eyes flicker closed as she breathed in the smell of his breath, the solution he used on his skin when he shaved, and the soap he used to bathe.

"Severus, I've been thinking," she said to him softly as she snaked her arms around his neck.

His hands lowered to cup her hips, his strong fingers pressing into the flesh of her buttocks gently. "Hm?"

Her voice was hesitant, as though she was uncertain of what she was about to say. As her eyes opened, she looked deeply into his. "What if… to handle the Malfoy issue… we used a memory charm?"

For a moment, it seemed as though time froze. His black eyes widened as he stared into hers, and slowly, Severus backed out of her embrace. The expression on his face contorted into a look of disgust or shock, but Hermione was so unfamiliar with his features morphed in such a way that she couldn't be sure. Turning her head to the side, Hermione questioned his sudden unexpected reaction. Taking a step forward, she touched his arm.

"Hermione, we cannot risk permanent damage to a student solely for our own benefit," he said slowly, turning from her. His speech was very precise, as though he was choosing his words very carefully. "Memory charms are not to be taken lightly, even by the most powerful wizard. I expect you know that."

Hermione's bottom lip curled as she frowned and she began wringing her hands. "I know that, Severus… but I just thought…" She stared at her hands, as though she was searching them for the answer. "I thought that perhaps if you performed the charm—"

"I do not make a habit of completely changing another's life for my own gain, Hermione," Severus growled, pacing before her. "Despite how skilled a wizard I am."

Hermione shook her head violently. "But Severus!" she cried, reaching for him. "If he tells anyone else, if anyone else finds out… this could save your life!"

"Hermione, you are not thinking," he stalked to his desk, his hands flat against the cold surface. Leaning into his arms, he stared into nothingness. "Draco Malfoy is not alone in this. If we were to erase his memories, we would have to do so to the rest of his family."

Hermione approached him from behind, her small hand gently touching his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Severus. I just…"

"I know, Hermione," he said, turning towards her. She collapsed into his embrace, burying her face in his chest. Touching his lips to the top of her head, he whispered: "We have no choice, Hermione. We must simply… wait, and allow the events to unfold."

* * *

><p>Hermione could not sleep that night. As she tossed and turned in bed, Severus' sleeping form beside her, her mind would not silence, no matter how much she willed it. She was exhausted, her eyelids heavy and sore, and yet sleep would not come. As she rolled on her side, her eyes could barely make out the face of her lover, his eyes closed in peaceful sleep, his body curled beside her and radiating heat.<p>

As she watched his face, his slow, even breathing whispering against her skin, she knew the answer to his question. She knew without a doubt that she wished to spend the rest of her life with him. She desired more than anything to bear his name and birth his children, to grow old with him and watch the days pass. She knew that to wake up beside him each morning after making love to him each night was a blessing that none would know but her. She knew that his capacity for love challenged even hers, and he was a fierce, dedicated man, one who would love her until the end of his days.

Lifting her hand to his sallow cheek, her fingers delicately traced the contour of his cheekbone, the wrinkling around his mouth and the line of his strong jaw. His mouth moved just subtly in response, and he released a heavy, sleepy sigh. She loved this man more than she ever thought possible, and she knew that she wanted, more than anything else in the world, to hold onto him forever.

Why was it, then, she could not manage the word? It was a simple word, a single-syllable word, a word her heart was screaming. Why was she hesitant to answer him? It absolutely killed her to leave him wondering. She knew he must doubt her true feelings towards him if she hadn't answered. He must be absolutely tortured by his unknowing. Hermione knew he could easily discover what exactly she was thinking; she almost wished he would open her mind like a book and pluck from it the information he so desperately sought. She wouldn't fight it; she would willingly reveal to him that her heart ached to be away from him and the pain was only magnified with her own uncertainty.

As he crept in closer to her under the covers, his arm draping across her waist, she gently combed her fingers through his dark hair. What was her fear, she wondered? She did not fear the commitment; of that much she was certain.

Was it… Lily? Hermione was not a jealous person, not in the slightest; his dedication to the woman was only proof that he would show her the same. Could he? She thought perhaps he could, because he had already shown her so much in recent months. But he loved her so much for so long, his entire life dedicated to the preservation of her memory. How could he have any love remaining for her?

Was it his age? He was nearly forty, and she was only nearing twenty. Even if magical blood blessed the veins with longevity, he still would certainly predecease her. Would he be there for her when her own parents passed on, or would she be mourning the deaths of her parents alone? What did his future with the Death Eaters hold? Would his death be more premature, more unexpected, than she already feared?

The thought of ever having to exist without him tore her heart in two, and tears leaked out onto her cheeks. Blinking them away, she leaned into him to kiss him softly. His lips pushed back against hers, returning the gesture.

As he spoke, his voice was gruff with sleep. "Hermione… why are you awake?"

"I couldn't sleep, Severus," she whispered.

His dark eyes flickered open, heavy-lidded and glazed. Touching her naked leg with his warm fingers, she drew in closer to him.

"What troubles you?" he asked, clearing his throat. His eyes were wider now, as though he was more awake, but the grogginess of his voice told otherwise.

"Severus, I want to marry you," she said suddenly, her voice high, the words rushed. "But I'm scared."

She thought, through the darkness, she saw the corners of his mouth turn upwards in a smile. He leaned into her, kissing her.

"Of course you are."

Slowly, he turned onto his back, his arm reaching beneath her to pull her close. His fingers grabbed at the covers, laying them across her body and trapping her warmth with his. She rested her head against his chest, her fingers tracing shapes into the flesh of his bosom.

"You are rational to a fault, Hermione," he said to her quietly, his eyes flickering closed. "If you were not scared, I would be concerned. Do you wish to share your burden?"

At first, she was hesitant to divulge to him what worried her so immensely, but as his fingers delicately tickled the skin on her arm, she knew he ought to know why she had not answered him yet. He had been so patient with her, despite her emotionality in recent weeks, and even when he seemed ill-tempered, he tried to keep from lashing out at her. He deserved to know.

"Severus… you're… you're almost forty," her voice was almost a whimper. "I'm only eighteen."

"I beg you not to rush my aging, Miss Granger," he crooned. "I am only thirty-seven."

"It's all the same, Severus. I… I don't want to be alone for the last twenty years of my life," she said softly. "And… what if… what if you're _killed_? What if—" Her voice cracked, the back of her throat aching with the onset of tears.

His arm curled around her tightly. "Hermione, in your world, most relationships that end in death last fifty years. We are blessed with longer lives – you will not be alone as soon as you fear."

"And if you're killed?" her grip on the sheets beneath his shoulder tightened.

"To quote a very wise witch, 'that is the risk you take when you open yourself up to someone.'" He paused, as though another thought had occurred to him, and as the young witch in his arms sniffled back her tears as she nuzzled her face into his chest, he spoke: "Hermione, I do not want you to believe that for a moment I am trivializing your fears. They are valid and they are rational." His fingers combed through the locks of her hair. "But I seem to recall a very similar conversation only two months ago, with roles reversed."

He felt her head move, as though she nodded. "I'm just scared, Severus… I don't want to be mourning for you when I should be mourning the death of my parents."

If her concerns weren't so valid, he would have chuckled. "I understand, Hermione. I understand all too well the heartache of eternal loss." For just a split second, those almond-shaped emerald eyes flashed in his memory.

"Severus, can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Why did you betray Voldemort?"

The silence that followed her weighted question persisted for what seemed like hours. Severus' eyes opened, staring at the dark, empty ceiling, the feeling of Hermione wrapped around him comforting him in that moment. He knew she must have felt his heart racing in his chest, and as her fingers traced shapes over the overtaxed organ within, she waited patiently for his answer.

"Hermione…" he whispered, as though only to assure her he had not fallen asleep. How this woman managed to ask him the most difficult of questions, the kind of questions he would never answer if given the opportunity. She deserved to know, of course, but did he want to tell her? He loved her dearly, completely, eternally – that would never change.

_Severus, you fool._ He chastised himself. _If only to prove that you trust her…_

She waited patiently, and he thought perhaps she would wait a lifetime if she had to. Her fingers were still tracing delicate shapes on the skin of his chest, the wiry hair scratching the soft pads of her fingers.

Willing the words to leave his lips, Severus' entire body was tense. Whether or not the woman tangled among him noticed, he did not know. He wished to tell her, so badly to explain to her, but once again, he found himself apprehensive, if only because he feared she would love him less for it.

_What are you, a child?_ "For Lily."

The movement in Hermione's fingers slowed gradually until they froze completely. She said nothing, her breathing slow and even, despite Severus' pounding heart within his chest. To Severus, those few brief minutes passed slowly like years, his blood rushing through his veins so violently he could hear the pulsing in his ears.

Finally, the silence was broken. Hermione's voice was quiet and meek, but Severus had no difficulty in hearing her. In that moment, the word to leave her lips was, for Severus, the most beautiful word in the entire English language.

"Yes."


	26. Chapter 26

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 26**

That morning, Hermione woke very, very groggy. Rubbing at her eyes, trying to force the sleep away, Hermione slowly sat up, a long yawn escaping her. Severus turned over to face her, his arm lying across her lap, and as he pulled her close to him, his lips planted kisses all along her hip.

His fingers crawled slowly up her side, the calloused roughness gently stroking the smooth, supple skin of the curve of her breast. The touch sent a shiver through Hermione, and as she looked down at her lover, she caught hint of the smile on his face that he had tried to conceal by burying his face in the flesh of her hip. Furtively, his fingers crept inwards until he was teasing her nipple, and she gasped.

"Severus! Really, you fiend!" she exclaimed, laughing.

As he sat up to meet her, he closed his lips upon hers, forcing her back against the pillow. His hand was still at her breast, his rough fingers playing with the sensitive nub there. Her fingers gently tangled in his hair, holding him to her as she kissed him deeply.

"I, for one, cannot think of a better way to spend a Sunday," he growled as he abandoned her lips for the soft skin of her neck.

His fingers left her breast, creeping down to the soft skin of her stomach. She sighed as his lips ravaged her throat, his hand slowly crawling to the soft triangle of curls between her legs. His fingers combed through the mass of hair there, down to the warm wetness that emanated from between her legs.

"I'd have to agree with you, Severus," she whispered into his ear as he kissed her shoulders.

"I will of course, have to deliver Professor Sprout's tonic" – with each pause, he placed a kiss on her body – "but that can certainly wait until I tend to the more… crucial tasks of my Sunday."

Hermione giggled as he kissed a trail from her lips to her core, his fingers gently gliding down her sides, almost too light to be comfortable, but not light enough to tickle her. As his mouth closed upon her most sensitive parts, she released a quiet moan, her legs falling open to allow him greater access.

Her entire body was responding to him as he lavished the taste and smell of the heat between her legs. Arching her back, Hermione combed her fingers in the hair of her lover, her nails gently scratching his scalp as she released an intensely pleasured moan. Her thighs quivered about his head as he lapped at her. The sweat squeezing its way onto her skin, the blood coursing through her veins – in that moment, her entire body was listening to him.

Severus slid his fingers into her wetness, gently probing in and out of her. He could feel her tightness spasm around his fingers as he suckled her sensitive nub, his hardened manhood twitching in response. As Hermione called out his name in release, her legs closed around him tightly, holding his face to her, and he continued pleasuring her until she could take no more.

"Hermione," he growled in a tone so low it caused her entire body to shiver in response. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, kissing her shoulders and collarbones tenderly. She let her legs fall open to surround him, her hand guiding his hardness to her entrance.

"Severus," she said softly, kissing his face as he pulled back to look at her. There was warmth in his eyes that had only ever existed for one other before her. Gazing into the darkness of his eyes, she gently combed her fingers through his hair, her fingers playing along the rim of his ear.

He plunged his length into her, dipping his face down next to her ear as he thrust within her. He kissed her cheek, his force moving her body in rhythm with his, the warmth surrounding him clenching tighter with each subsequent push into her.

"You will never know just how much you mean to me," he whispered into her ear, a pleasured groan escaping him as he moved within her.

As he climaxed, she grasped at his body almost desperately, pulling him closer to her. When he pulled back to look at her face, her cheeks pinked with passion, her eyes warm with love, she smiled. He snaked his arms around her back, pulling her to him as he rolled to his side. She lay in his embrace, her legs tangled with his, breathing in the scent of his sweat, of their sex, and dreaded the moment she would have to leave his arms.

They laid there for awhile, never giving any concern to the passage of time on the lazy Sunday morning. Severus knew eventually they would have to rise, they would have to bathe – but for now, he was perfectly content resting with her in his arms.

Lying there, he wondered fleetingly, if Lily would have felt this perfect in his arms, if she would have felt so blissful surrounding him, if her lips would have tasted as sweet. He thought perhaps not; maybe Hermione would be the only woman to ever fit his embrace so well. Perhaps all the years he spent pining for Lily's love, and ultimately mourning her death… perhaps they were all in vain.

Squeezing her tight to him, Severus dismissed his thoughts of another and focused on the beautiful woman lying beside him. He had no right to think of another while she was in his embrace. She deserved better than that…

_She deserves better than me._ He thought bitterly, his face nestled in the mass of her hair.

Later that afternoon, after Hermione and Severus had showered and readied themselves for the remainder of the day, Severus delivered Pomona's fertilizer to her. The herbologist thanked him profusely, though he noticed the glimmer of disappointment in her eyes when she noticed he was not stained green.

Waving off her graciousness, he said coldly, "I expect to receive no opposition when I make requests for some of your herbs, Pomona."

"Of course, Severus," she replied hurriedly, though he knew better. She always had some arbitrary requirement when it came to harvesting from her greenhouses, and usually she insisted to do it herself.

Turning from her, Severus began the trip back to his dungeons. His young lover would not be there waiting for him, and it disheartened him only slightly; she told him she was going to spend her day with her friends, and not wishing to burden their friendship any further, he bid her good day.

He almost welcomed the quiet reprieve, though it ached to be away from her. He had not had much time to himself in recent weeks, and truth be told, it was beginning to wear on the Potions Master. His time had been consumed by her and by his work, and with little time for him to think on much of anything at all.

Severus pushed open the door to his office, relieved to find his desk clear (as though he expected it some way other than how he had left it) and the room empty. Dropping into his chair, he leaned back against it, stretching his legs beneath his desk. The wood was cool beneath his hands.

The room was eerily silent except for the ticking of a clock and his own even breathing. He let his eyes close, basking in the emptiness. There were so many things that happened in recent days that Severus had no time to give honest, full contemplation.

Hermione had finally answered his proposal. He had no idea that such a simple, single-syllable word could be so beautiful, and yet, when she whispered her answer, he felt as though his heart would swell to bursting. And in the hours following, all he could do was bask in the blissful beauty of their love, enjoying her body entirely and completely.

And then, he suddenly realized that even despite her unconditional love, her willingness to devote her entire life to him, he _still_ thought of Lily. His thoughts still lingered on the woman who possessed his heart for nearly thirty years, his unrequited love for her that nearly destroyed him. He had never known what it was to be loved so completely, and yet, as Hermione showed him just what it was to be cherished, he still could not rid his thoughts of Lily.

With horror, Severus had realized that he did not deserve Hermione's hand in marriage. He did not deserve her love, her dedication; certainly not while his thoughts, his heart, still lingered on a woman who had been dead for nearly as long as Hermione had been alive.

Flexing his fingers on the arms of his chair, Severus sighed. How could he have allowed himself to act so selfishly? He had been so hesitant in the past to open himself to her, for fear of drawing her closer. He knew her love for him would eventually devastate her, if not kill her. And then, in an act of pure selfishness, complete weakness, he asked for her hand in marriage. And the girl agreed! How could she be so foolish? How could she trust that he could love her completely, when his entire life had been dedicated to another woman's legacy?

Fleetingly, he wondered, if perhaps he honestly believed that by marrying Hermione, he would forget he ever loved another woman. If her hand in marriage would cure him of the unrequited love he held for another. It did not matter that he loved Hermione completely, that he loved her the way he had loved Lily – because his love for Lily persisted.

And as if his own inner turmoil was not enough, he was also plagued by that wretched family, the Malfoys. He knew without a doubt that they were scheming; their behaviors were far too suspicious otherwise. Why would their interests lie only in outing Severus to the Headmaster? Surely, if their intention was to have the Potions Master ousted from Hogwarts, they would have told as many people as possible about his relationship with a student. And yet, it seemed, only Draco Malfoy was the only student to know. What was their intention, he wondered?

Leaning forward on his desk, Severus held his head in his hands. He had been so distracted with the events of recent that he had almost forgotten about the pilferage of his stores. Almost. The perpetrator had not yet been found and Dumbledore had not come to him since Christmas Eve, which led Severus to believe he had no more information than he. But with other such pressing matters, the thievery no longer concerned him. If a student wished to destroy their own life by getting pregnant, than that was their mistake to make, and he would not worry himself with it.

Rubbing his eyes, Severus opened a drawer to his desk and removed some parchment. Dipping his quill in ink, he began the first draft of the upcoming seventh year exam.

For most of the afternoon, Hermione was tutoring Ron and Harry with their homework. They had some essays due for Transfiguration and Charms, and while Hermione had finished the work what seemed like weeks ago, the two boys had, as always, procrastinated to the last minute.

When they had finished their research and had begun the actual task of compiling their essay, Hermione had excused herself. Standing from the floor, she flattened out the creases in her pants, waving farewell to her friends as she turned towards the portrait hole.

"Where ya headed, 'Mione?" Ron asked her as she moved away from them.

She turned towards him, smiling. "I need to talk with Professor Dumbledore."

Harry and Ron exchanged interested glances, but neither pressed further. Hermione had been quite secretive as of late and neither boy was interested in rejection if they queried her further, and so they let her go.

As she stepped through the portrait hole, she breathed deeply, willing the butterflies in her stomach away. Her mind was plagued with questions that she knew Severus was not ready to answer. She wasn't sure if Professor Dumbledore would be so willing to answer her questions either, but she had to ask. She had to know.

She began a brisk pace to the Headmaster's office, and as she approached the gargoyle statue, she realized grimly she did not know the password to enter. Staring at the ugly creature, she thought hard. Harry had mentioned the password always seemed to be some form of Muggle sweet, but with such a diverse subject to choose from, she would be there forever guessing!

She stared intently at the statue, her brow furrowed, a wrinkle pressing itself into the smooth skin of her forehead. Crossing her arms, she began reciting different kinds of Muggle candies, but to no avail. The statue did not budge.

"Miss Granger," the voice from behind her startled her violently, and as Hermione turned quickly, she was surprised to find her lover standing close.

"Oh! Professor Snape," Hermione gasped.

He considered her for a long while before speaking. She was fidgeting under his gaze, her cheeks reddening in his presence, and as she looked up at him, her eyes were warm, but there was something else there, too. Uncertainty, it seemed.

"What, pray tell, brings you to this part of the castle on such a lovely day?" his voice was oily, icy, but Hermione couldn't help but blush furiously, considering a good portion of the 'lovely day' was spent nestled in the Potions Master's bed, his body pressed between her legs.

"Erm… well, I – I needed to speak with Professor Dumbledore," she said slowly, her eyes fixed on his.

"Why, then, are you loitering in the hallway outside his office?"

"I don't know the password, sir," she replied, her voice cracking in her embarrassment.

His lips curled into a sneer, and tearing his gaze from her pretty face, he looked to the statue. "Ah, yes. His obsession with Muggle sweets is rather absurd, if you ask me."

"Well, Severus," the Headmaster's voice came from behind them, and both turned to look at him. "In fact, nobody asked you, did they?" His voice was anything but harsh, a twinkling in the pale blue of his eyes. "To what do I owe this honor, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked cautiously at Severus, who had been watching the Headmaster as he spoke. Turning her gaze on Dumbledore, Hermione said slowly, "Well, sir, I was hoping I could talk to you." She paused, her eyes flickering to Severus. "Privately."

Snape suddenly felt the bile rise in his throat. What on Earth could she be requesting private counsel for? Panic seemed to crush his chest, his mind whirling with the possibilities. She must have realized her mistake; she must be informing Dumbledore that he had in fact raped her, and he needed to be removed from Hogwarts.

_Relax. _Straightening his shoulders, Severus nodded curtly to the both of them, and turned on his heel. As he crept down the hallway, his robes billowed about his feet.

"Ah, yes, Miss Granger. Do follow me!" as Dumbledore turned towards the gargoyle, it leapt from his path without an uttered word. Hermione faltered just a moment in following him, staring at the statue in frustrated awe. "Come now, Miss Granger, lest he block your path once more!"

Hermione quickly clambered up the stairs after the Headmaster, reaching the top only a few seconds after him. As he rounded on his desk, he held a dish of candy to her, which she politely declined. Taking a seat across from him, she folded her hands in her lap, her heart fluttering in her chest like a hummingbird.

"What did you want to discuss, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked, leaning onto his elbows.

"Well, sir," Hermione began. Suddenly, she felt very awkward having this discussion with the Headmaster, after having spent so much effort concealing from him the very thing she was about to talk to him about. Looking from his face to her hands and back again, she tried to formulate a sentence that was mature and rational. "Sir, I was wondering if you could tell me…" How should she put this? Was this betraying Severus' trust by going outside of their trusted relationship to another source for information about him?

Dumbledore steepled his fingers in front of him, considering her over his spectacles. Her hesitancy to speak was not lost on him, and as he watched her struggle for the words, he smiled. "You wish to know something of Severus, yes?"

Hermione's eyes widened. Quickly, she nodded. "Well, yes. He… he doesn't like to talk about this… and… well, I…"

"Is this about Lily Potter?"

Hermione's eyebrows seemed to rise higher and higher on her forehead as the conversation progressed. She nodded again, this time with much more vigor. "Yes, sir."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, studying her closely. "This is a conversation you should be having with Severus, not with me."

"I know, but he doesn't like to talk about it. I don't know why," she shook her head, frowning. "But he… he gets scary, sometimes, when he thinks about her."

A small chuckle escaped the Headmaster, and as he looked at the young woman across from him, he said, "There is very little I can tell you about this, Miss Granger. It is a conversation you must have with Severus, as it is Severus' story to tell."

Hermione nodded curtly, picking at her nails. "Yes, sir."

For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Hermione had so many questions to ask, and she didn't know where to begin. "I'm just afraid, sir. I'm afraid that… he will always love her."

Dumbledore nodded. "Oh, yes. Of course he will. Why does that matter, Miss Granger?"

"How can he possibly love anyone else?" Hermione was shocked to hear those words escape her. Severus had been nothing _but_ loving to her, his every action a small gesture of his love. How could she have doubted that? How could she not have known?

A smile crept across the ancient wizard's face, and as he leaned forward in his chair, he released a quiet laugh. "Ah. Miss Granger, for a brief second, I wondered the same. When he had confessed to me that he loved you, my first thought was that he had loved Lily for so long, how could it be?" Dumbledore shook his head. "And then I realized, though Severus will always love Lily, it does not mean he will never love you."

Shifting her weight in her chair, Hermione breathed a heavy sigh.

"Why do you seem so distressed, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked.

"I just… I don't understand, sir," she said slowly, carefully examining her hands to avoid looking at his face.

"If there is one thing that I am absolutely certain of when it comes to Severus Snape," Dumbledore began, smiling at her, "is that he is an intensely dedicated man. He is capable of loving more than most wizards. He has risked life and limb for the mere memory of a woman. Just because he has loved another woman for many, many years – and just because he will, in all likelihood, continue loving her until his final day – that does not mean he does not love anyone else, Miss Granger.

"When I spoke with him that morning I discovered you sneaking out of his rooms" – and at this, Hermione blushed intensely, tucking her chin to her chest to prevent Dumbledore from witnessing the violent flush of her cheeks – "I saw in him something I never thought I would see again. Miss Granger, Severus loves you deeply. I think he loves you so much that he is confused himself, and I think he will continue to torture himself about loving Lily while he feels he should be completely dedicated to you for the rest of his days.

"He is as conflicted as you, Miss Granger. He does not understand why his love for Lily continues, despite his commitment to you. He loves you so completely, Miss Granger, of this I am certain. But his love for Lily… He will continue loving her for many years, if not until the day he dies. But I can guarantee you something, Miss Granger: he will love you just the same.

"Severus Snape is not one to bear his emotions so openly. To wear one's heart on his sleeve, to Severus, is a sign of weakness, of foolishness – and it is not something he does. But with you, Miss Granger… with you, it is different. He is willing to open himself to you, to make himself vulnerable to you, even though he knows what it is to lose one who you love so dearly. He knows that heartache all too well, and he has calloused himself to it to prevent having to experience it once more.

"But with you, Miss Granger, he recognized something. With you, he realized that perhaps it was worth making oneself vulnerable for the sake of knowing what it is to be loved. His unrequited love for Lily never gifted to him that, and she was a woman who had broken his heart many times. Her death was nearly the destruction of poor Severus. He had blamed himself for many, many years for her murder. I suspect he fears the same for you, and once more, he is conflicted – he loves you dearly, Miss Granger. And he does not know if that intense love should be forbidden to protect you, or celebrated.

"I suspect he feels selfish because he wishes to celebrate such love. I suspect he fears that your life may tragically end, as Lily's did, because of him. Whether or not it was his fault is irrelevant to Severus – he will blame himself regardless and he does not know how to handle such a thing. He is severely conflicted about you, Miss Granger. He is not used to having so many unanswered questions, even more so when the questions have no answers at all."

Hermione's eyes began burning with tears as she stared at her hands in her lap. Clenching them closed, she breathed in a shaky sigh. There was a whisper of fabric, and suddenly Dumbledore was by her side, his ancient, bony hand grasping her shoulder tightly.

"I can see that you love him very dearly, Miss Granger," the Headmaster said, quietly. "I am beginning to see why I allowed this to continue, though when I permitted it, I was acting only on a hunch." As Hermione looked up at him, his pale blue eyes were twinkling kindly. "Severus has needed someone like you, Miss Granger. He has needed you for a painfully long time."

She could hold back her tears no longer, and they began to pour down her cheeks. Dumbledore's hand rested firmly on her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly, as she wept quietly in his office.

"He is very lucky, Miss Granger," the Headmaster said. "And I suspect he knows it."

As she brushed the tears from her cheeks, Hermione couldn't help but smile. "I'm very lucky, too, Professor."

"Why, yes, you are, indeed."

It had taken Severus a long while to calm his nerves. He knew it was ludicrous to assume that Hermione would have reported him after so long, especially after they had gone to such painstaking measures to prevent the Headmaster from knowing the truth of the root of their relationship. But even so, he couldn't help but suspect the worst. Which, he knew, was also absolute madness – she had just committed her life to the man!

He had decided the best way to ease his mind was to distract himself, and so he had continued writing the seventh year's exam. He couldn't help the turmoil that was his churning stomach, and if he had any inclination to eat at all, it was extinguished by his apprehension. Hermione was very much in love with him, a fact he reminded himself of very often. She would do nothing to jeopardize their relationship, which he knew also to be fact.

Then why had she requested a private meeting with the Headmaster? His mind kept turning over the possibilities, despite his attempts to suppress its activity with work. As the afternoon became evening, with no sign of Hermione – his fiancé, he tried to remind himself, for why would she accept his proposal and then report his crime? – his foreboding feeling only worsened.

As Hermione hurried to Severus' classroom, she couldn't help but feel inflated with joy. While none of her original questions had actually been asked, Professor Dumbledore had eased all of her anxieties. She realized that Severus' history with Lily only mattered to her if he wished to tell her of it – and only then. Otherwise, she was quite content to love him and be loved by him, and romantically, for a moment, she thought perhaps that he was all she needed in her life.

She passed through the classroom and to his office, where she knocked quietly on the door before entering. Severus was behind his desk, bent over a piece of parchment. She took a seat in the chair across from him and waited patiently until he acknowledged her presence.

"Hermione," he said gruffly, peering up at her.

"Severus," she replied, smiling.

The smile that she wore for him soothed his anxiety immensely. He had been growing irritable as he waited for her to return to him, and as soon as she entered, he could feel the atmosphere of the room lift tremendously. She leaned across the desk and kissed him.

"I suppose you're wondering why I wanted to talk to Professor Dumbledore," Hermione began.

Severus set his quill in its well and leaned back in his chair. He knew he did not need to answer the question, and so he didn't; Hermione continued.

"Severus, I had concerns," she whispered quietly. "About Lily."

His expression changed, and Hermione could not tell if he was horrified that she would ask someone else about such a personal topic, or angered. Her voice wavered as she spoke, quickly:

"Please don't be angry, Severus. I had to know, I had to know if you could really love me as much as you would if you didn't love anyone else." She lowered her gaze to her lap as she began picking at her nails. "I didn't know. But… Professor Dumbledore reassured me."

"What did he tell you?" Severus asked, leaning on his desk, his voice quiet, dangerous.

Hermione's eyes widened as she realized he was growing angry the more she spoke. "H-he didn't tell me anything, really. He told me that he didn't think, right away, that you could love anyone else _but_ her, but then he realized that you could! That you were an intensely dedicated man, and that to be loved by you made me very lucky!"

Severus' shoulders were tense as he rested all of his weight on the top of his desk. Hermione kept a watchful eye on him, the subtle tremor in his hands the only sign that he was growing at all emotional.

"Severus, I'm sorry," she whispered. "I had to know."

"Then you should have come to me," he hissed.

"You never wanted to talk about it!"

Suddenly, Severus stood abruptly, and with a wave of his wand the air of the room felt heavier. He set his wand on the surface of his desk and began pacing, his lips paling in his anger, a vein pulsing violently at his temple.

"You had no right, Hermione!" he exclaimed, turning on her suddenly. "You had no right to talk to anyone about that but me!"

"Severus," Hermione stood quickly, her hands reaching out to him. "You never wanted to talk about it. You asked that I not push. I needed to know! Severus, I had just committed to you the rest of my life, and I had so many questions that you weren't willing to answer! I had every right to know!"

He turned from her, grasping the edges of a cabinet behind him. His grip was so firm his knuckles were almost translucent. He knew she was right, but the betrayal he felt in that moment challenged his logic. She absolutely had every right to know, but she had spoken with someone else about matters that only concerned him!

Hermione's stomach clenched as she moved around the desk to be near him. "Severus, I love you," she whispered quietly. "I love you more than I ever thought possible." She rested her hand on his tense forearm, straining to look into his face. His head was tipped forward, the curtains of black hair concealing his face from her. "I had to know if you could love me just the same."

He turned towards her. "Of course I can," his voice was low. "And that is what frightens me."

Severus grabbed hold of her wrists, thrusting her towards him. She whimpered under his strong grip, the intensity of his grasp painful. He stared into her eyes, his mouth opened just slightly as though he was going to speak, but no words escaped him. Her amber eyes were glossy and red, widened in her fear, but as she stared into the fathomless depths of his, she recognized something there.

"I do not know what I would do if I had to experience that loss again," he said. "But for you, I feel as though the risk is worth taking."

He loosened his grip on her wrists, leaning down to her to kiss her deeply. His arms snaked around her back, holding her close to him, and briefly, he wished he never had to let her go.


	27. Chapter 27

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
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**Chapter 27**

Hermione had left Severus' rooms early that morning, before he had even woken. She was undeniably groggy still, but she knew a cool shower could rectify that for her. Her Monday would be a busy one, most definitely: she had exams in three of her classes, and Severus was intending on assigning her the third of her four projects due by the end of term. He had not hinted to her what it was she would be working on, but she was very eager to find out!

After she showered and dressed, she lingered in the common room until Harry and Ron appeared. Like a pair of elephants they barreled down the staircase, and as they emerged, she hurried over to them and hugged them close.

"Woah, 'Mione!" Ron exclaimed. "What's gotten into you?"

"I'm just very happy today!" she replied, grinning. She only wished she could tell them why, as her finger toyed with the ring Severus had placed upon her finger. Her heart swelled at the thought.

"Leave it to Hermione Granger to be happy about have three exams in one day," Harry replied, elbowing Ron playfully in the ribs.

Hermione shook her head. "Oh, you two, you haven't any idea, do you?"

The boys exchanged curious glances and then looked back at the Head Girl. "No – we don't!"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione shouldered her bag. Ever since Valentine's they had not pushed at all to find out more about Hermione's mysterious boyfriend, though she knew they had to be curious. At the very least, though, they were happy for her, and she only hoped their happiness would extend past their discovery of whom it was she was so involved with!

Once Ginny had joined them, they departed for the Great Hall for breakfast. It was a bustling morning; most of the students, for a Monday, were surprisingly loquacious, the giant room a loud cacophony of voices and laughter.

"It's been another quiet year," Harry commented off-handedly as they sat down at Gryffindor table.

"Doesn't it concern you at all?" Hermione asked, picking food from the plates in front of her. "Professor Snape and I rarely discuss it, obviously, but even he has said that Voldemort has been eerily quiet. It's as though, when he fled from the Ministry, he disappeared from the face of the Earth."

As he chomped down on a thick piece of sausage, Ron asked, "You mean you and Snape talk about stuff other than your project?"

Grimacing as Ron's lack of couth caused him to spray food onto the table, Hermione leaned away from him and groaned a quiet 'tut' in disapproval. Frowning, she said, "Of course, we do, Ronald."

Harry smirked at Hermione, glancing up at the High Table. Ron and Hermione's gazes followed his and as their eyes rested on the dark professor beside Professor McGonagall, Hermione couldn't help but swell. As though he could feel the students' gazes upon him, Snape turned from the Deputy Headmistress, with whom he had been talking, his eyes lingering on Hermione's face for just a moment before he scowled and turned away.

"We can only hope that he's disappeared," Harry said quietly. "Obviously, it worries me. But with no mysterious disappearing, no unexplained deaths, no break-outs from Azkaban—"

"Since you and Snape are gettin' so cozy," Ron said, just the smallest hint of bitterness in his voice, "has he told you about any meetings or anything he's had with Voldemort?"

Hermione's brow furrowed, Ron's tone of voice not lost on her. "No. We don't talk about that."

"I'm surprised he talks about anything at all," Ron said scathingly. "Greasy git."

"Ronald, you really should have more respect," Hermione chastised, willing her nerves to settle. It was hard to listen to him speak so poorly of the man she loved so dearly, especially when it seemed so out of place!

"He's given me nothing but trouble the entire time I've been here," Ron growled. "It's hard to have respect for someone like that."

Harry was watching the exchange with a wrinkle pressed into his forehead. He didn't like Snape much either, but he knew he had risked his life on many occasions for the Order, and he knew that Hermione was right. It was a discussion, though, like so many others, that was between Ron and Hermione, and he knew it was best to keep quiet or risk angering the both of them.

"_Ronald_! Have you no idea what he's risked for us?" Hermione said, the pitch of her voice rising as she grew more and more irritated.

"Nobody asked him to do that," Ron growled back. "Bloody Death Eater – who knows why he changed sides. Half the time, I'm not even sure he's even on our side."

Hermione rose suddenly from the table, slamming her hands down on the surface. "How _dare_ you!" Her exclaimed sentence seemed to echo in the sudden silence of the Great Hall, all eyes turned on her. "How dare you even say such a thing, Ronald Weasley! You have no idea – you don't even know what he's done for us!"

Harry and Ginny had exchanged a very uncomfortable glance. Harry had gotten used to Ron and Hermione arguing, but even he felt that Ron was out of line. He wished to come to Hermione's defense, but knew better than to involve himself, and so he lowered his eyes to his plate. Ginny had looked about her, noticing the silence of the hall; all of the students that had turned to watch the argument. Even the High Table seemed eerily silent.

Ron, who had not failed to notice the audience they had gathered, lowered his head just slightly to conceal his face, which was quickly turning the color to match his flaming hair. "Hermione, calm down."

"I will _not_ calm down, Ronald! You have no right to say any such thing about him like that! He – oh, I can't _believe_ this!" Grabbing for her bag, she stepped over the bench. "You have no idea all he has done to protect Harry, and here you are, speaking about him as though he's the foulest, the most loathsome—"

"Since when have you jumped to his defense, Hermione?" Ron stood suddenly from the opposite side of the table. "He_ is_ a foul, loathsome git! It never bothered you before – not until you started working with him!"

Hermione breathed in deeply, her face flushing in her anger. Suddenly, she turned from him, her bag hoisted over her shoulder. To continue on with causing such a ruckus was not appropriate, she knew, and before she said something that she would regret, she decided it was best to leave.

Unfortunately, her drive to have the last word in an argument was stronger than her desire to leave before everything crumbled beneath her. Turning on her heel, she leaned down onto the table, her face just inches from Ron's. His face was still burning red in his embarrassment, and as she leaned into him, it only flushed more.

"Things _change_, Ronald. Peoplechange. You ought to have more respect for those who have seen the worst in this world." Briefly, her eyes flickered to Harry, and then she turned on her heel and left the Great Hall, an ocean of eyes following her retreating back.

Severus had seen the entire exchange from the High Table, though he feigned the mildest intrigue he could muster. It had been impossible not to hear the words exchanged, and he knew that she had been defending him. Her love, her loyalty – it made his heart swell, and it was very difficult indeed not to follow after her. He looked to Dumbledore, and the ancient wizard let a small smile creep across his face.

After a moment, the silent hall erupted into the clinking of utensils against plates and the chattering of voices. Severus' gaze rested on Weasley, his dislike for the boy only exacerbated by his argument with Hermione. Potter leaned into his friend, speaking quietly, and with a small burst of anger, Severus returned to his breakfast.

"Mate," Harry said, softly.

"What the bloody hell was that about?" Ron asked, his voice cracking in his distress.

"She was right, you know," Ginny said disdainfully. "Snape has done a lot for Harry. We may not like him, but he deserves our respect."

"Rubbish," Ron growled, tucking into his meal once more, his eyes lingering on the empty seat of his friend.

Hermione had gone straight for the Prefects' lavatory, her frustration with Ron inspiring tears in her eyes. Brushing at them angrily, she threw open the door to the lavatory, dropping her bag to the floor and grasping onto the sink for its support. She stared into the mirror, her eyes red and wet and fierce. Her hands were still trembling in her anger. So much for a happy day!

She knew she may have overreacted but she still believed firmly in what she had said to him. Severus had done so much for Harry, and for what? Certainly, his demeanor also warranted the loathing he received from students, but the man deserved so much more than that. She brushed away her tears roughly. If he had only softened himself, if he only allowed himself some vulnerability! He wouldn't be so alone!

Breathing in deeply and slowly, Hermione tried to calm her nerves before the end of breakfast. She didn't want her fight with Ron to influence her mood for the remainder of the day – especially her exams! – but it was difficult indeed.

Sometimes she wished so badly she could tell her friends what was going on. If she did, perhaps they would censor their scathing remarks about Severus – but she highly doubted it. No, instead, what seemed more likely was that Ron would be even more irritable at the mention of Severus' name, his anger ignited by jealousy.

The more and more she discussed Severus with Ron, the more she came to realize that she may very well be on her own when she did in fact confess to them what was going on. And that thought made her ill.

When it came down to it, would she choose Severus?

* * *

><p>Charms class was tense, at best. Hermione had taken her usual seat at the front of the class, trying to handle the situation maturely, but Ron had decided that the best course of action was to sit as far away from her as possible. When he did not take his seat at the table beside hers, she looked back behind her. Harry had a faint wrinkle pressed into his brow, turning his eyes from Ron to Hermione. She smiled sympathetically, mouthing "It's okay," and Harry took the seat beside Ron.<p>

Why he was behaving like that she had no idea. A simple argument, that's all it was – she didn't think for a moment she had said anything out of line. Frowning, she opened her textbook, and as the rest of the class filed in, she buried herself in the lesson. It was hard to suppress her thoughts of her friend, but she refused to let it interfere with her lessons for the day.

Fortunately for Hermione, she had Ancient Runes after her class with Ron, which meant she did not have to face him again until lunch. When their class ended, Ron had hurriedly escaped the classroom, but Harry lingered behind. As Hermione caught up to him, Harry shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Hermione… you know how he is…"

"I don't understand, Harry," Hermione said sadly. "I didn't think the argument warranted this reaction from him."

"And I agree with you," Harry said softly as they turned a corner. "He'd murder me if I told you this, but he's been talking about you a lot lately. He misses you a lot, and… well, honestly, I think he's quite jealous of Snape."

Hermione turned her face to the ground. Her pace slowed until she had stopped altogether, and when Harry noticed she had begun crying, he turned to her.

"Hermione," he said gently, grasping her by the shoulders. "It'll be okay. He'll get over it, he always does."

Hermione shook her head, rubbing at her eyes. "You – you don't understand, Harry. I don't think he will."

Harry pulled her by the shoulders into a hug. She tucked her face into his shoulder, crying quietly. "It'll all work out, Hermione. Don't worry."

Hermione heaved a heavy sigh and continued walking. "I hope you're right. I'm going to head down to Ancient Runes early, and… I probably won't be in lunch. I'll see you later, all right?"

Harry held her hand for a brief moment, squeezing reassuringly and nodding. She pulled out of his grip and began the walk towards the Ancient Runes classroom, willing her mind to focus on the class. It would be the first of three exams that day, and to let her emotions influence her grade would be unacceptable.

She was grateful that after Ancient Runes she had Potions – it meant that when the class ended, she could talk with Severus. The way he could soothe her sadness, it was like nothing she had ever known. Even when he himself was in a foul mood, he still managed to lighten her disposition, and in doing so, improved his own mood as well.

Ancient Runes was a blur to her. She hardly remembered what the exam entailed, though when she left the classroom there was not the sense of foreboding she got when she feared she did not do well. Her mind was focused on Ron and his reaction, and her dread for the day they knew about the true nature of her relationship with their loathed professor.

Potions was not anymore successful. As she was sitting at her desk, her head bent forward over her textbook, she could feel the eyes of her classmates burning into her neck. She was aware that her argument with Ron had an audience, but, foolishly perhaps, she did not expect them to react to it so long after the fact. She hadn't really noticed it during Charms and Ancient Runes, but as she thought on it, she realized the students had been whispering then, too. Only when Severus stood from his desk and began the lesson did the scrutiny – and whispers – cease.

When Severus had sent the students off to brew the lectured potion, Hermione had done uncharacteristically disastrous. Severus, though he did so hesitantly (for he had witnessed the argument and recognized her reaction and the reason for her poor performance), did not miss the opportunity to humiliate her, in keeping with their normal routine.

"Miss Granger," he said, his voice icy. He was standing behind her, his hands behind his back. "If these are the standards by which you are performing, I must admit I am quite regretful that I accepted you as an apprentice. I hope your projects are not as dreadful." His voice was quiet, but the rest of the class could easily hear him. He leaned in close to her ear. "This is just pitiful. And you wish to be a Potions Mistress?" And he swept away.

Hermione's eyes stung with tears as she bent over her cauldron. She knew Severus was only carrying on the charade they had maintained all year, but she was still upset that he chose not to overlook her carelessness. Uncharacteristic as it may have been, she already had enough on her mind, without his mockery. The class could not have ended any sooner, and as she bottled up the catastrophe that was her potion, she lingered in the classroom for all the other students to leave.

As the last pupil filed out, Hermione delivered to Severus her vial, and as she looked up at him, her face crumpled into tears. He led her into his office, where he closed the door. Patiently, he lowered himself into his chair, waiting for her to speak. She would say what she needed to, when the words were available.

"Severus, I'm afraid Ron will never forgive me when he finds out," she said finally. "I mean, he's absolutely furious with me simply for defending you!"

He folded his hands on his desk, studying her. Her voice was shrill in her frustration, her hands trembling and her eyes red. A small smile crept across her face, but to Severus, it did not seem sincere. It seemed almost cynical. "Why does it seem that everything has reached its boiling point?"

Severus shook his head slowly. He knew exactly what she meant; in just the past week or so, they had discovered so much that threatened their happiness together. It only seemed to pile on.

"Harry seems to think that Ron is jealous of how much time I'm spending with you," she said quietly. "They haven't asked anything more about my secret boyfriend, and I highly doubt they would ever suspect you… but…"

"You know you cannot tell them, Hermione. Not yet," Severus said quietly, leaning towards her.

"I know, Severus," Hermione replied softly, lowering her eyes. "I just… I don't think Ron is going to be congratulating us for a very long time."

Severus leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs underneath his desk. "What of Potter?"

"Harry is torn," Hermione replied sadly. "He… he knows to abandon Ron right now would make matters worse – he hasn't chosen sides, but if he had to…"

Severus scowled. How childish were those boys? Legally adults and they were acting as though they hadn't achieved puberty yet. Severus had been convinced that when it came to it, Potter would have supported Hermione above Weasley. Hermione was always so reasonable; he couldn't fathom how Potter could rationalize opposing her in such a way as to support Weasley.

But then, even Potter detested Snape, and he would, no doubt, feel the same betrayal that Weasley would upon discovering her relationship with the Potions Master. Severus looked at his calloused hands, frowning. Had he ruined everything for her?

"I suppose there is no use in anxiously waiting for the outcome, is there?" Hermione asked. "Whatever choice they make is theirs to make, and I can't affect it. I just hope I come out of this with one friend left…"

Severus reached across his desk, cupping her face in his hand. "Hermione…"

He hated to see her like this, to be so sad because of him. She had been crying so much in recent weeks, more than he had ever hoped to witness, and he felt as though he was always to blame for it. He had suspected that when her friends discovered their relationship, the Weasley boy would be the one to act irrationally; Potter, however incompetent he was, was not a complete idiot – he would recognize Hermione's happiness, and Severus' value to the cause. But that wretched Weasley…

"I am here," Severus said quietly. "If ever you need anything at all."

"I know, Severus," Hermione smiled. "I love you. You're worth all of this."

His heart warmed with her words, and suddenly he couldn't help but find himself smiling. Even in all his acerbity, especially as of late, she would still stand strongly by his side. Stroking her cheek with his thumb, he stared into those amber eyes of hers, and he knew he would never tire of the love he saw there.

"I love you, too, Hermione," he replied.

* * *

><p>Hermione returned to her private rooms that afternoon just for a moment. She would have to report to Severus' classroom – he was assigning her third project, after all! – but she wanted to relax in quiet solitude for a few minutes before completely submersing herself in her work. Her final two exams of the day went well, and she was no longer worried about that. She also forced the thought of Ron from her mind; she knew Harry was right; he would come around, though when, she did not know. But there was no use worrying.<p>

As she leaned back on her four poster bed, her eye caught sight of the anonymous gift she had been sent earlier in the month. Leaning down to it, she lifted it into her hands. Turning the bottle over, she read the label again and again. "Who are you from?" she whispered.

Crookshanks leapt onto her bed, rubbing his face against her hand. She opened the bottle of wine, sniffing from its mouth, the sweet smell delicious. She poured a small amount into a cup she conjured from air and sipped from the glass slowly, basking in its taste. Crookshanks kept pushing his face against her hand, and finally she gave in and scratched his head.

Capping off the bottle once more and setting it down, Hermione slowly finished off the small amount she had poured into her glass. With a wave of her wand the conjured cup vanished, and Hermione stood, a sudden feeling of arousal coming over her, her nether regions aching for Severus. She smiled to herself as she stood from her bed. Just the feeling of fabric brushing against her heightened her senses, and her body reacted intensely as her thoughts lingered on the only man who has ever pleasured her.

"If I didn't know better, I'd have thought Severus slipped an aphrodisiac into that wine," Hermione laughed to herself as she packed all of her potions books into her bags. Elderflower wine had never caused such a reaction in her body when she drank it at the Weasleys, that was for certain!

Shouldering her bag, she abandoned her rooms and hurried to the Potions classroom. She couldn't believe just how excited her body was as she thought of her lover. As she pushed open the door to the dungeon, Severus was sitting behind his desk in the classroom, hunched over some papers.

She closed the door behind her, and with a wave of her wand it locked with a quiet click. Severus peered his eyes up at her curiously, leaning back from the parchment, as she swept over to his desk and pulled him into a deep kiss. She climbed into his lap, her legs straddling the sides of his chair.

"Miss Granger," he growled as he broke the kiss, burying his face into her neck. "What a pleasant surprise."

"I want you," she whispered into his ear as he kissed her throat, a soft moan escaping her. She began rocking her hips into him, grinding her hot core into his groin.

Severus gripped her hips firmly, lifting her off his lap and onto his desk. He bent to her, kissing her ravenously, her hands exploring his body through the fabric of his robes. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him to her, her small hands fumbling with the clasps of his robes.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Severus growled into her lips as he pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers and unfastening her jeans.

"I don't know," Hermione sighed in response, throwing her head back. His lips explored her neck hungrily. "I just need you."

"I believe I can comply," his voice was a low rumble as he began kissing her collar and her shoulders.

She managed his robe open and he shrugged out of it, the fabric falling to the stone floor with a whisper. Her lips began bruising the soft, pallid flesh of his chest, her hands tracing the subtle lines of musculature that lurked just beneath his skin. As her lips grazed his nipple, he released a soft sigh, his hand coming to her head, tangling in her hair.

"I didn't think you'd mind," she replied quietly, her breath whispering against his skin, raising gooseflesh.

She raised her arms over her head and he released her from the confines of her shirt, tossing the article to the side. He pressed his lips against hers, kissing her passionately as he opened her bra, pulling it from her chest and letting it fall to the floor.

He suddenly pushed her back onto his desk, kissing a trail from her lips to her breast. He sucked her nipple into his mouth, massaging the pink nub with his tongue. Hermione released a gasp, combing her fingers into his hair. His free hand massaged her other breast delicately, and she let her head roll against his desk.

She could feel his manhood pressing into her thigh as he kissed her hungrily. Clumsily, her hands began fumbling with his pants, unfastening them and freeing his hardened organ from them. Hermione wrapped her fingers around the shaft, stroking it tightly in her hand.

Severus abandoned her breast and kissed her lips once more, his tongue exploring her mouth hungrily. With his member now freed, he began to work on removing her own jeans. They slid over her hips effortlessly, and with nothing more than the thin fabric of her panties separating him from his goal, he began stroking the head of his erection against her hot, wet folds.

"Severus," she whimpered, catching his lips with hers as he rocked his hips against her.

He slid the fabric out of the way, and with his manhood positioned at her entrance, he looked deep into her eyes. Pressing a kiss to her mouth, he pushed his full length inside of her, thrusting long and hard.

As he moved within her, he buried his face in her throat, suckling the skin there gently. Her sighs of pleasure only inspired him further, and the louder she moaned, the harder he thrust. She was overwhelmed by the sense of pain and pleasure he was causing within her – the kind of pain that only accompanied being buried so deep inside her that she couldn't help but cry out in pleasure.

As her muscles spasmed around him in release, he too was drawn into climax, and he released a loud groan as he exploded inside her. She lay panting beneath him, her back sore and bruised from being pushed against the desk, but she didn't care. She pulled his face to hers, kissing him deeply.

When he broke the kiss, her face had lost some of its flush. Her breathing was slowing as her body returned to normal, and as she sat up on his desk, she blushed. Severus pulled on his clothes, handing her the articles he had tossed haphazardly in any direction.

After she had pulled her shirt over her head, she tucked her hands into her pockets. Severus noticed her embarrassment, and as he wrapped his arms around her, he asked: "Why do you seem so ashamed whenever you initiate our love-making?"

"I don't know," she said sheepishly. "It's as though something comes over me, and I can't help but want to feel you."

Severus let a small smile cross his lips. He knew very well what she meant, as it was how he felt every time he looked at her. Granted, it was rather inconvenient during class when his body reacted in such a way to her graceful movements!

"We should get to work," Hermione said, pulling her hair back.

"Indeed," Severus replied, turning to his desk. In the fray, the textbook he had laying there had fallen to the floor, which he retrieved. Opening it, he flicked through the pages until he found what he was searching for. "I suspect you will find this next project very enjoyable, Hermione."

Hermione approached him from behind and peered at the page. Her eyes widened with excitement and as she turned to Severus, she exclaimed, "Wolfsbane potion? Really?"

"It is a very difficult potion to brew," he said slowly. "It will not take nearly as long for you to create, but I wanted to provide you with enough time to correct any mistakes you may make in the process."

Hermione smiled, nodding eagerly. "Oh, this is so wonderful, Severus! I could help Remus!"

"Yes, indeed, you could," Severus growled, turning from his desk and leaning against it. "He has also agreed to allow you to test your potion on him."

"Wh-what?" Hermione gasped, looking at him. "Really? Oh – oh no, I couldn't."

"As it turns out, Lupin trusts in your ability, Hermione," Severus interjected. "As should you."

"But what if – I couldn't. What if it doesn't work? Tonks would—"

"Be able to handle it without issue," Severus replied sourly. He handed her the textbook. "Once you have finished the chapter, we can begin."


	28. Chapter 28

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 28**

Hermione took the textbook into Severus' private lab, where she sat behind her workstation and began to read. In the corner of the room, her two cauldrons rested, one gurgling quietly over the flame, the other simply maturing in the cool temperature of the dungeon. The only sound in the room, then, was the quiet churning of liquid and the crunch of parchment as she turned the page.

It was about an hour by the time she had finished reading, and as she closed the book, she rested her chin on her hand. Severus was standing in the doorway to the lab, his arms folded across his chest.

"This is a very challenging potion," he began quietly, and Hermione turned towards him. "There is a reason that Dumbledore entrusted only me with the task of brewing it for Lupin."

"As I can imagine," Hermione responded, rising from the table. "If you had wanted to…"

"I could have easily 'errored' and Lupin would have, in all likelihood, joined his dear friend in Azkaban," Severus said, icily. "Indeed."

Hermione touched her chin with her forefinger, thoughtfully. "I have to admit, Severus," she began cautiously. "I had suspected that perhaps… the reason Lupin had nearly killed us…"

"Was my doing?" Severus prompted, an eyebrow raised.

"Well… you never liked Harry very much," Hermione smiled. "And – well, had Lupin not forgotten to take his potion – we very well could have died."

"He may be a moron, but I realize his value to the cause, just as he does mine," Severus replied coldly. "And may I remind you, Miss Granger" – he narrowed his eyes, in a harmlessly threatening way – "you and your meddlesome friends would not have been the only casualties that night."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at him. He held her gaze steadily, her smile warming him in ways he could not explain. They considered each other in silence for a moment across the table.

"Thank you, Severus," she said softly. "For everything."

Severus didn't need her to explain further, but he couldn't help the overwhelming feeling that took over. He moved around the table and brought her into his arms, holding her to him tightly, his face buried into her hair. As his eyes flickered closed, for a split second he saw Lily, felt her in his arms, heard her voice – and he froze.

He pulled away from Hermione suddenly, turning from her. "You are free to begin. If you have any questions – I'll be in my office."

Hermione stared at him, confused by his sudden coldness. Quickly, he swept from the room, without another word or a second glance over his shoulder. She couldn't understand why he seemed bothered, suddenly – had she said something wrong?

Turning towards the table, she smoothed her hands over the cold surface. She would need to begin her project, but she felt as though everything that day was going wrong. How on Earth was she going to focus?

Crossing the laboratory to Severus' stores, she passed through his classroom. His office door was ajar, light leaking through to the floor. She resisted the urge to go talk with him, to sort out whatever it was he was feeling, and instead began the project he assigned her.

Severus was sitting at his desk, his head buried in his hands. He didn't deserve Hermione, not in the slightest – his thoughts lingered more on Lily as every day passed, despite how much he loved the young woman who gave herself to him every night.

Why did it seem that proposing to Hermione was in fact the worst thing he could have done for their relationship? Ever since that evening it seemed as though Lily infected his thoughts more often than they had before. It was as though the memory of that woman was aware that he was trying to move on, and she simply would not allow it. Hermione deserved so much better than that.

Staring at his rough, calloused hands, Severus felt his fury rising. Proposing to Hermione – that was the second time he lost his control with her. His proposal was unplanned, it was compulsive. She was right to talk with Dumbledore, he realized suddenly. His anger with her was completely unjust; she had every right to believe he would love Lily for the rest of his life. She was absolutely right to wonder if he was actually capable of loving anyone else.

He knew he loved Hermione completely. She was everything that Lily was, and more. Hermione understood him in ways Lily never could, and Hermione forgave him for things that Lily never would. Hermione was perfect for Severus, perfect in all ways – and yet he still found himself longing to gaze into those beautiful emerald eyes.

Perhaps, Severus thought, what truly mattered is that when he joined Hermione at night, when he was within her, their bodies as one – his thoughts rested only on her. When she gave herself to him at night, she was the only woman that existed. Because that much he knew was true. His thoughts, his desires, his love; it was all for Hermione in those moments. Everything he was, he would give to her if he could, when they were making love.

Severus' fist came down hard on the surface of the desk. More than anything, Severus wished that his love for Lily would fade. But grimly, he suspected that it never would. He had loved her for so long, would his heart know to do anything else?

"Severus," came the quiet, uncertain voice from the door. Looking up, he spotted Hermione in the doorway, her features concerned. "Are you… is everything okay?"

He straightened up at her presence, sitting back in his chair. "Yes, Hermione, I am fine. Did you need something?"

"Oh, yes," she said, as though remembering why she came to him at all. "I needed you to confirm something for me."

Severus rose from his desk and followed her through the classroom to the laboratory. As she gestured to her cauldron, Severus looked into it. The solution within was a rolling boil above the flame.

"I wasn't sure if it was best to crush the aconite or boil it," Hermione said, looking up to him. "I know the book suggested boiling it…" Severus looked to her workstation, where she had placed a mortar and pestle.

"I am encouraged that you thought to consider that before proceeding, as you were quite right to be uncertain," Severus said, turning towards the table. He poured a small amount of the petals into the mortar. Lifting the pestle, he began gentle grinding the dried flowers. "You see?"

Hermione nodded, watching his hands closely. He moved to the side to allow her to mimic his actions, and carefully, she began grinding the leaves. He simply observed her for a moment, and as she worked, his mood began to lighten. He imagined her by his side in ten years, in twenty – and he smiled at the thought.

Perhaps he would love Lily always. It was something he had done for so long; it was quite possible he would never be able to stop. But he knew, he just _knew_, that meant nothing in regards to his love for Hermione. The woman before him – she was whom he imagined in his life years later. She was the woman he imagined bearing his name, birthing his children. She was the woman he wished to have by his side through the rest of his life, despite what trials and tribulations he came to face. She made everything he had done thus far in his life seem worthwhile.

Severus leaned back against the table behind where she worked, simply watching her. He had never been so torn over a decision in his entire life, but he knew that marrying her would be the best choice he had ever made. She truly made him happy, and despite the persistence of his thoughts of Lily, Hermione's presence still healed those wounds. If only Severus could resist picking at the scab.

* * *

><p>As March crept upon them, the weather outside finally began to warm. The snow was slowly beginning to melt, and Hermione could feel her overall mood lift with the onset of warmer weather. One day during late February, Ron had worked up the nerve to sit beside her in class. Hermione smiled at him, leaning into him affectionately, happy to have him as a friend once more.<p>

He had learned, too. For awhile at least, he wouldn't say much about Professor Snape at all.

Hermione, in addition to preparing for her N.E.W.T. exams and working on her apprenticeship project, realized grimly that February had passed without a cycle. When Severus had begun brewing her contraceptive potion for her, he had warned that it may cause some unusual shifts, but it had been months since she started taking it – to completely miss her cycle seemed odd.

When she confronted Severus about it the first week of March, his own reaction seemed to calm her nerves some. "That is to be expected, Hermione," he had said. "It is a very, very powerful potion, and because it interferes with hormone production, it is not unusual that you may see months where you do not menstruate at all." He had turned from her, opening the cabinet in his office which contained the supply he had created for her. He pulled the jar out, the pinkish solution inside sloshing against the glass. "You've only missed one cycle?" – she nodded – "If March passes and you've missed another, we will test you. But for now, I'm confident that you are just fine."

Hermione had breathed a sigh of relief. She was not so concerned about bearing Severus' children – in all honesty, she found that was something she very much desired to do. It almost disturbed the girl how much she wasn't so much concerned about the prospective pregnancy as she was actually rather excited. She wished very much to have his child, but to do so now would be absolutely catastrophic. With the wizarding world on the brink of war and with her upcoming exams, it just was not the right time.

She would not have to concern herself on the problem for much longer, though. March turned out to be a very busy month for the Head Girl, between her projects with Severus, their continued Occlumency lessons, preparing for exams, and the upcoming full moon – she would be able to test her first batch of Wolfsbane Potion with Remus Lupin, and she was very apprehensive about it.

Professor Dumbledore had already granted Lupin and Tonks passage into the school, and they had met Hermione and Severus in the dungeons. Upon seeing her friend, Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders tightly, hugging him close, and then broke from the embrace to hug his wife as well.

"Are you going to be staying at the castle this week?" she asked them, excitedly. Her eyes washed over his appearance, the lines in his young face seemingly deeper and deeper every time she saw him, his hair greyer than before.

"Professor Dumbledore has invited us to stay in my old quarters," Lupin nodded. "So we will stay here for the time-being, anyway." His eyes flickered from her face to the pendant around her neck, the gemstone glowing brightly.

"Of course, once the full moon arrives," Tonks said, touching her husband's shoulder gently. "We will have to judge that as it comes." Lupin's gaze moved from Hermione's pretty pendant to the face of his wife, and he nodded.

Hermione's hands were shaking, her discomfort in testing her work on a close friend quite apparent. She did not want to risk the lives of anyone in the case that it was not correctly brewed, but as Severus had reassured her several times, she was a very accomplished potioneer and he had no doubt that she succeeded admirably. Severus, of course, had examined the tell-tale characteristics of the concoction, and could find nothing wrong.

"Well, Hermione," Lupin said, setting his hand on her shoulder. "I trust that Professor Snape has taught you quite well."

"I would not have accepted her request had I thought she was incapable," Severus replied coldly, his gaze lingering on Hermione for just a moment before he looked to Lupin.

Smiling slightly, Remus nodded at the Potions Master. "Of course. I don't suppose you'd have suggested she test her work on a real werewolf, either, had she not been competent."

"Indeed," he replied, folding his arms across his chest.

"I hope Professor Snape doesn't mind," Hermione said cautiously, turning her gaze to her lover. "I invited Harry to join us this evening, I'm sure he'll be very happy to see you!"

Severus' face changed just slightly at this news, as though he did not approve but wasn't going to say anything about it. Hermione knew Severus was investing great effort into not influencing her relations with her friends, and by doing so, she felt he may be allowing her to do things he wouldn't have otherwise. Normally, he may not have allowed another student into his dungeon during the evening, but it _was_ Remus Lupin, and he was one of the only remaining "family" members Harry had left.

Hermione and Lupin talked more on the subject of the Wolfsbane Potion – while Lupin was not skilled enough a potioneer to craft it himself, he still had an intimate understanding of the potion. He explained to her that, because of how long he had been taking the potion, he would quite possibly recognize nearly immediately if there was something wrong with it, in which case, Severus had his own solution prepared.

Shortly after, a knock sounded from the heavy dungeon door. Severus looked to the doorway, waving his hand to grant access, and Harry, looking remarkably excited, spotted Lupin immediately. With a nod to Snape, Harry hurried into his classroom and embraced Lupin in a tight hug.

Lupin laughed, slapping Harry on the back. "It's good to see you, Harry!" Lupin said, messing the boy's already tousled hair.

"And you!" replied Harry. "I guess Hermione's really getting tested today, eh?" His green eyes flickered to Hermione, smiling.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, her cheeks turning pink.

"Oh, I doubt there's anything to worry about," Lupin replied, smiling at her. "As Professor Snape has said, she is quite capable. I have no doubt that she'll have done remarkably well!"

Hermione's face flushed again, and she leaned into Harry affectionately. Severus rested his hands on his hips, his eyes flickering between the inhabitants of his classroom.

"Shall we get on with it?" Severus' voice was oily, his patience waning for so much company.

"Oh, right!" Hermione exclaimed.

She hurried to the laboratory, leaving Lupin, Tonks, and Harry to converse as they would. Severus followed her into the room, collecting a goblet from a cabinet and handing it to her. Looking at her levelly as she scooped some of the potion out of the cauldron, he noticed the subtle tremble of her hands.

"Hermione, you have no need to worry," he said softly. "You are a very accomplished potioneer. I have no doubt that this is exceptional."

"Thank you, Severus," she said, smiling. Her voice was trembling in her anxiousness.

The goblet was steaming as she carried it out to Lupin, Severus following close behind her. Handing him the cup, Hermione smiled uncertainly, her cheeks still rosy. As he peered over the lip of the goblet, his nose wrinkled.

"Bottom's up," he grumbled, and began drinking down the solution, the eyes of his company watching him closely.

Hermione watched in livid anticipation, her hands trembling. Severus had come up behind her, and as though instinctively, he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. She turned her eyes to Severus, but he was watching the werewolf. As Lupin finished the potion, Severus dropped his hand to his side, as the gazes of Harry and Tonks flickered between Lupin and Hermione. Hermione took a step forward.

"Well?"

"Perhaps, you and Professor Snape could devise a method to improve the taste," Lupin said, crassly. "I can never get used to it."

Hermione's eyes widened with concern; she had no idea how to interpret Lupin's statement, but his wife simply laughed. "I guess that means it's good?"

"As far as I can know," Lupin replied. "We'll know for sure in a week, but for now – my confidence in your ability, Hermione, never wavers."

A smile broke out on her face as she clapped her hands. She felt her chest swell with pride, though she knew it was truly too early to tell for certain whether or not she had brewed it correctly. Lupin drew her into an embrace before reaching his hand to Severus. The Potions Master shook his hand and then turned, leaving them for his office.

"Well, Hermione," Lupin said. "I suppose I will see you here tomorrow at the same time?"

"Yes!" she said. "And… thank you! Thank you so much, Remus, for trusting me enough."

"Oh, come now," Lupin smiled, touching her cheek. "I will not tell you again, you_ are_ the brightest witch of your age. I have no doubt that you have done remarkably." Turning from her, he set his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Shall we? We have much to catch up on!"

Harry nodded emphatically. "Absolutely!"

As Lupin led Harry from the dungeons, his hand still on the boy's shoulder, Tonks lingered behind for just a moment. Smiling at Hermione, she grabbed the younger girl's hand.

"I know you're probably concerned for me," she began, her kind twinkling eyes soothing Hermione, in a way. "But you don't need to be. Even if you made a mistake – and I can tell you, Remus certainly doubts that you did – trust me when I tell you, being a metamorphmagus has its benefits." She winked playfully at Hermione. "Especially when married to a werewolf."

Hermione nodded slowly, smiling. "Thank you, Tonks."

"And I bet Remus will be awfully excited, too, if you've got it right – he really never liked having to ask Severus for the favor, after all," she laughed, her gaze flickering between the Head Girl and the potions office. "Anyway, I ought to keep an eye on those two, keep them out of trouble." With a quick hug, Tonks turned on her heel and approached the door. "See you tomorrow evening?"

Hermione nodded. "Absolutely." And Tonks disappeared through the door.

Feeling elated and excited, Hermione breathed in deeply. If her Wolfsbane Potion was accurate on her first try, no doubt Severus would be quite impressed indeed! She turned quickly towards Severus' office, pushing the door open gently. The Potions Master was behind his desk, reading from some parchment. As she entered, his dark eyes left the paper.

"I must admit, Miss Granger," he crooned, his oily voice sending a shiver through her spine. He set the parchment back on a stack, folding his hands against cool surface of his desk. "Between my own examination and Lupin's comments, I am quite confident that you have performed exceptionally well. I suspect you have no reason to worry."

"I hope so," Hermione said. Her heart was still racing in her chest though, despite Lupin's seemingly good response. "Tonks said…"

"And she was quite right," Severus interjected. "No doubt her skill as a metamorphmagus serves her quite well as the wife of a werewolf." He rose from his desk, his hand stroking her cheek gently. "Now, I believe we are scheduled for an Occlumency lesson."

* * *

><p>Hermione had become very adept with Occlumency, and Severus was indeed quite pleased with her progress. He found it increasingly difficult to penetrate her mind, and even when he did, her thoughts were irrelevant to him. He was quite pleased, indeed.<p>

Several nights had passed, and as the full moon loomed closer, both Lupin and Hermione seemed to grow more and more anxious. The werewolf continually reassured her that she was plenty capable, but he could not help but feel apprehensive as the transformation came closer. Her anxiety did not abate, however, until the night of the full moon, when the accuracy of her potion would be proven.

Hermione, in the meantime, would continue working on her two draughts. It would be two weeks longer before she could touch either of them, but she had plenty of data to record to include in her end-of-term essay for Severus. Once Lupin endured his transformation, Severus explained, he would decide then whether or not Hermione's final potion would be assigned. The final potion would require two months of preparation; Hermione's projects would be finished by early May, allowing her a month's time to finish her paper and then the remainder of the term to prepare for her N.E.W.T. examinations.

As Hermione began compiling her notes thus far from her project, she smiled to herself. What a busy year it had been, indeed. It wouldn't be long before she could inform her friends and family about her relationship with Severus, and the thought, while tying her stomach in knots, was relieving. They could finally be open about their love for each other; no more deceiving, no more sneaking around, no more hiding!

_But,_ Hermione reminded herself as she began scrawling a general outline for her final paper. _That's still three months away._

She felt a pair of arms snake around her waist, and looking down, she identified the tell-tale sleeves of her lover's black robes. Turning in his arms, she looked up to him, pressing kisses all along his jaw. Finally, she caught his lips with hers, and he searched her mouth hungrily with his tongue.

They had only a few moments before Lupin would arrive, and Hermione pulled out of her embrace with Severus to prepare the goblet. As the week wore on, Lupin's age was becoming more and more apparent – no older than Severus, but his face bore the same deep crevices of a stressful, difficult life. And those wrinkles became more pronounced the closer they approached the full moon.

Scooping the smoky liquid from her cauldron, Hermione carefully poured it into the goblet. Even though they were four days into the cycle, her hands still trembled, her heart still racing, as though she hadn't done this three times before. She couldn't shake her anxiousness at the thought of her potion going wrong and Lupin transforming into a violent, rabid, ravenous werewolf.

As she set the goblet down on the table, Severus grabbed her hands. "Hermione, how many times need I remind you have no reason to worry? You are a fantastically skilled potioneer. I would not have assigned you Wolfsbane with intentions on testing it on a live subject were you not capable."

"I—I know, Severus… I just… I can't help but worry," she said softly.

He pulled her into him, kissing her gently. She nearly collapsed into his embrace, her arms wrapping around his waist. They only broke apart when they heard a quiet knock at the classroom door, and the heavy door creaked open.

"Miss Granger will be out in a moment," Severus said as he swept from the laboratory. His dark gaze flickered over Lupin's worn features, the scars and lines of his face deeper than the night before. "You aren't looking well." He offered, coldly.

"How very observant of you, Severus," Lupin replied crassly.

Severus sneered as he passed through his classroom and into his office. Despite the years that had passed, his bitterness towards Moony had never waned, though the man rarely actually participated in Black and Potter's torment of Severus. Sometimes, the Potions Master couldn't help but wish Hermione were less competent – if the transformation weren't painful enough, he only wished that the werewolf would be locked away in a room on his own to inflict further painful injuries upon himself.

Taking a seat at his desk, Severus could hear the creak of the laboratory door as Hermione entered the classroom.

"Oh, Remus, you look terrible," she said, the compassion and sympathy in her voice painfully obvious. She almost felt as though she were pained by his appearance.

"This is not the worst of it, Hermione, I assure you," he said, his voice kind. "I can only hope that it is in my lifetime that a cure is created."

Hermione set the goblet on the table beside her and wrapped her arms affectionately around the older man. His hand smoothed over the mass of her hair, pulling her close in a hug. "With as intelligent and capable a Potions Mistress you shall be, Hermione – I have no doubt."

She squeezed him tight one last time before turning towards the table. She handed him the goblet, and with a painful grimace, he finished it off. Setting the goblet down on a table, he smiled at Hermione. "Mind if we talk?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, not at all."

Lupin looked towards the laboratory, and Hermione needed only a second to catch what he was suggesting. "Oh! Yes, this way," she led him to the laboratory, closing the door behind them.

Taking a seat at a table, Lupin gestured for Hermione to do the same. She was quite curious, but also anxious, and her stomach ached with flutters. She lowered herself into the seat beside her older friend, and he touched her knee gently.

"I wanted to talk to you about something… quite personal, Hermione. Forgive me," he said softly. "I am only looking out for your best interest."

Hermione furrowed her brows in confusion, but nodded slowly, uncertainly. "Of course, Remus."

"I have known Professor Snape for a very, very long time," he began. "Since we were boys, just starting at Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded, listening closely. She suspected she had an idea where this conversation was headed, and the more Lupin spoke, the tighter her stomach clenched. Lupin was looking at his hands, his kind eyes tracing the lines of his palms, as he chose his words.

"There was a girl," he said carefully. "I saw the way he looked at her – Professor Snape is a very cold man indeed, but the way he looked at this one girl… it was different."

Hermione began chewing her lips, tucking her chin to her chest as she avoided his gaze. She felt her cheeks begin to warm, the color flushing them.

"I have not failed to notice," Lupin said slowly, cautiously. "He… he looks at you in a similar light."

Hermione's eyes widened just slightly as she stared at her lap. Her cheeks burned with color, her stomach churning violently. Lupin extended his hand to her shoulder, resting it there, squeezing comfortingly.

"You are a very intelligent, mature witch, Hermione. I have no doubt that, without you, your friends – Harry, particularly – may have perished very early on," Lupin said, amusement in his tone. "You are, no doubt, very capable of making such a decision."

Hermione suddenly lifted her eyes to meet his gaze steadily, her lips parting to fervently deny what he was suggesting, but he cut her off.

"Hermione, I know quite well what is going on between yourself and Professor Snape," he said quickly, though his tone was far from critical. "He is different when he is with you. As are you. I just worry for you, as he is involved in something very dark, very dangerous. If you love him" – and his eyes flickered to the pretty sapphire ring upon her finger, the gemstone dim but sparkling – "then I am very happy for you both. But be cautioned."

"How—"

"Hermione, when you have known someone for as long as I have known Profess—Severus," Lupin smiled kindly. "You become well acquainted with the different mannerisms of a person. And you – you are not so skilled as he at concealing your emotions." Placing his hand on her knee, he leaned in towards her. "The ring and the necklace – were those his doing?"

"Oh, uhm… yes," she blushed, her eyes falling on the rock on her finger. "Yes."

"So Severus is a bit of a romantic, I never would have guessed," Lupin chuckled. "I… I am not one to judge the lives of others, Hermione. I am fairly certain Severus and I have much more in common than he would like to admit." His expression and his voice suddenly darkened as he leaned in even closer to Hermione. "Just be careful, Hermione. He will never hurt you – but that does not mean his associations won't."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I know, Remus. Does Harry—"

"Neither he nor Tonks, nor anyone else, as far as I know. I have not said a thing," Remus assured. "I could not help but notice the two of you are taking great caution in keeping this secret, and I understand why."

"I am afraid the parents of my students would be much less understanding," Severus said from the doorway. Both Hermione and Lupin turned quickly towards the door, startled by their sudden guest. He had seemingly snuck in the room.

"Severus," Lupin said, standing suddenly.

The Potions Master swept into the room, the door closing behind him without a sound. He stood before Lupin, his dark, penetrating stare moving over the features of the man. Hermione watched them both carefully, her stomach never ceasing to churn, her hands trembling slightly in her apprehension.

"How did you know?" Severus asked.

Lupin smiled just slightly, sitting down once more. Severus backed away from him, pulling a chair up beside Hermione. The werewolf did not fail to notice the intensity with which her gemstones were glowing, and his smile widened.

"Severus, I remember the way you looked at _her_," Lupin said. "You have that same warmth in your eyes. It also helps that I am a great deal wiser than many of your students. The jewelry – it's a nice touch."

Severus' face twisted into something between fury and embarrassment, his normally pallid skin flushing. It was not often the man had no retort, but he was torn between wanting to scathingly reply with a condescending comment and holding his tongue – he felt his respect for Lupin increase if only slightly, as it seemed the man had no intention on turning the professor in.

"As I just finished telling Hermione, I will not say a word to anyone – she is a very wise witch indeed, and I have no doubt she is plenty capable of making such an important decision on her own," he said quickly. "I suspect Dumbledore knows?"

"Indeed," Severus' voice was a low growl.

"And your parents, Hermione?"

"No, not yet," Hermione said softly, shaking her head. "I just haven't had the opportunity to tell them, and I decided it was best to wait until I graduated – they could find out when everyone else does."

"Ah," he replied. "I understand, certainly." After a brief pause, during which he seemed to be considering something, he added: "Do you mind giving Severus and I a moment?"

Hermione rose quickly from the chair. "Not at all!" She hurried from the room, closing the door behind her.

Remus turned to Severus once more. "I trust you have gone to great measures to protect her, Severus."

"Of course," he replied coldly.

Leaning forward, Remus rested his elbows against his knees. "I always thought Hermione seemed a great deal like Lily, Severus. I was not surprised to find her a close friend of Harry's. I must also admit that, while this is far from expected, it is not shocking."

Severus said nothing, instead simply stared levelly at the man. He did not desire to remain in the closed room with him any longer, but all things considered – he knew he owed it to the man at least to listen to what he had to say. After all, Lupin had not told a soul of his discovery, and Severus knew he had no intention of doing so, either.

"Severus, I am not here to lecture you, nor am I here with criticism," Lupin said, his tone cautious. "I understand your position better than you would like to admit, I'm sure. But over the years, I have grown quite fond of Hermione – and I must assert that if you do anything to hurt her…"

Instead of retorting with an icy remark, Severus simply shook his head. "As you've said, we share a certain understanding." He knew Lupin was only protecting her, and that was certainly something the Potions Master could appreciate.

"The ring – a ring on the left finger is typically a Muggle practice," he said.

"As you may have known, my father was indeed a Muggle," Severus replied, coldly. "I have learned a thing or two of Muggle customs, and I thought it appropriate."

After a lengthy silence, Lupin stood from his seat. "Ah – well, Severus, I ought to be going."

Severus stood as well, nodding. "Indeed."

"I must say, I am quite happy for you," the werewolf commented off-handedly, smiling kindly at the wizard. He extended his hand to Severus, who hesitantly took it. With a gentle squeeze, Lupin turned from him and opened the laboratory door.

"Ah, Hermione!" he exclaimed, his eyes lingering on the gemstone that began to glow brightly as soon as Severus entered the room. He drew her into a hug. "I'll see you tomorrow evening."

"Of course," Hermione hugged him tightly.

Into her ear, Remus whispered, "You're quite lucky, you know." His voice was hushed, but loud enough that Severus could hear, and as her amber eyes caught his dark gaze, she smiled.

"I know I am."


	29. Chapter 29

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 29**

Severus had to admit he was quite surprised the werewolf had caught on. He supposed he hadn't given the man enough credit; he was indeed quite astute, and that, in addition to the fact that Lupin had absolutely no intention on reporting Severus' relationship with a student to anyone with any authority (or anyone at all, for that matter), significantly impacted the amount of respect the Potions Master held for the man.

While he never imagined – nor desired – that he and Remus Lupin would ever becoming bosom friends, he did indeed respect him a great deal more than he had. Though, truth be told, that wasn't saying much, as he had always held him in great disdain. Severus certainly had a fickle issue with grudges.

As Lupin left the couple to their own, Hermione and Severus exchanged curious glances. The wizard's dark gaze fell on Hermione's necklace, the gemstone glowing proudly in its pendant. He couldn't help the smile that slowly crossed his lips.

"I suppose I could have given more careful consideration to your gifts, Miss Granger," he said, his voice oily as he pulled his fingers through her long hair.

"It isn't as though anyone else is as observant, Severus," Hermione replied, smiling. "I was… I was quite surprised. He would understand, though, of all people, wouldn't he? It was only… what, just last year, that he married Tonks."

"Indeed," Severus nodded. "It is why, I suspect, he did not treat us with disappointment or disgust, but rather… happiness."

"He understands, you know," Hermione said, wrapping her arms around the Potions Master's waist. "While he… he did not want to love someone because of his affliction, he felt it too dangerous… you… you're not much different, really." She buried her face into his chest, breathing in the spicy smell of him. "I love you, Severus."

He touched his hand to her head, smoothing his palm down the length of her hair. Pulling back from her to look in her face, he said, "And I love you, Hermione."

"I suppose he is one guest we can count on for our wedding," Hermione said jokingly, a pleasant smile on her face. "Now if only I can get Ron to warm up to the idea!"

Since her reconciliation with the second youngest Weasley, Severus noticed that Hermione did not seem quite as glum on the subject as she had been. He knew she still dreaded the day she would tell him, as they both knew the boy would not handle the knowledge well, and even less so considering she would have been lying to him for nearly a year – but she could now, at least, find humor at its expense, and it was of relief to Severus.

He drew her into another embrace, holding her close to him. He did not feel as he thought he would with the discovery of their relationship by someone; where he thought he would have been angry, or at the very least, anxious, he was actually quite relieved. Perhaps it was because it was someone who understood, or because it was someone who was, at least, noncritical – he did not know.

As Hermione pulled from him and headed into the laboratory, Severus lingered behind. He had an exam to write for his second years and a batch of essays that needed grading, but he desired to do neither of those things. Not without company, at least.

"Hermione," he said as he stood in the doorway of the laboratory.

"Oh, yes?" she turned towards him, having finished putting away her things.

"I do not suspect you have much to do as far as practical work tonight," he began. "As your draughts still must mature."

"That's right," Hermione nodded, curiously. "I was going to read more into what others have done for the Drink of Despair – I wasn't going to deviate from your notes, of course, but instead I thought to look and see what has been done differently, and to find whether there is something we may have missed." He watched her as she gathered her backpack. "I was going to go to the library."

Severus nodded, a bit surprised but pleased nonetheless. "I would request to join you, but – ah – for some reason, I think it would seem a bit peculiar were I to be seated with you at a library table."

Hermione laughed. "Yes, I agree."

"Will you be joining me this evening?" there was something furtive about his voice, a smoothness that raised gooseflesh along her limbs.

"Of course!"

* * *

><p>Hermione's research in the library did not yield what she had hoped. She suspected that Severus' private library would, in all likelihood, provide more than enough information for their research, but the Head Girl always believed that, when all else fails, Hogwarts' library held the answer. Disappointed, she began replacing the books on the shelves.<p>

It was later in the evening, well past dinner, and Hermione knew the library was relatively vacant. The silence weighing in around her was interrupted only by the occasional hushed whisper of a schoolmate, and Hermione cherished the silence. She had not been spending nearly as much time in the library as she had in the past and truly, she missed it!

After she returned all of the books to their proper places, she began the long trip back to Severus' dungeons, careful to take the back passages he had told her about to avoid being seen.

* * *

><p>With Harry in the common room with his younger sister, Ron sat on his dormitory bed, staring at the canopy of his four poster. Hermione had not come back to the common room in several evenings, and the red-headed Keeper suspected she was probably still working on her project in the dungeon.<p>

He knew he had overreacted when he had gotten so upset with her several weeks ago. She was right to come to the defense of Snape – greasy a git as he was, he still saved their lives countless times, and who knew how much he was risking. But Ron, jealous a boy as he was, could not help but feel bitter when he thought of how much time she was spending down there.

He couldn't help but notice that she even looked at him differently, now. Ron had seen that look in her eyes – that look, the look she had for him when they had dated. It made him sick to think she could look at Snape with the same kind of affection, as though he was a person to be cared about. Didn't she realize there was a reason he was alone?

Many an evening Ron spent in his dormitory, the same strong urge washing over him as the minutes ticked by and Hermione had not yet returned to the common room. Rationally, he knew she could be in her own private quarters – as Head Girl, she did, indeed, have her own private room with its own private stairwell that bypassed the common room – but he suspected it was not the case. There had to be something more to her apprenticeship under Snape than she was letting on. The business of having a "secret boyfriend" and that she was always quick to defend the professor… Ron felt his heart race and his face flush at the thought of the secret boyfriend being… _him_. Why else would she keep it such a secret, unless she was ashamed?

Peering over to Harry's bed, he could see the edge of his trunk poking out from under the bed. The Marauder's Map was in there, and it would be simple enough – he could just take a peek, find out where she was so late at night, and then tuck it away once more. It was going on ten o'clock – surely she wouldn't be in the dungeons anymore.

But what if she was? What would he do then? He certainly couldn't confront her about it; she would be absolutely furious he had even thought to violate her privacy like that. And what would come of the knowledge? Staring at the trunk, he began fisting his bed sheets in his hand. The thought of her… with _him_… it made him sick. It made him angry.

He stared long and hard at the trunk, his impulse to spy, in a way, on her very, very strong. He had a right to know where she was, didn't he? She certainly had no intention on telling neither him nor Harry. They cared about her, she had to know that. Would she understand if he told her he was only ensuring she was safe?

Harry came into the dormitory, all smiles. Looking over at his best friend, he couldn't help but notice the foul mood he seemed to be in, and lowered himself onto his bed.

"Oi, mate," Harry said, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Harry," Ron began, his voice low. "Let's use the map – check on Hermione."

Harry's brow furrowed in shock at the suggestion, and he shook his head. "No, Ron. We can't do that."

"But she had no intention on telling us who her boyfriend is," Ron replied, sitting up in his bed. His eyes never left the trunk. "This'll tell us!"

"Yeah, and she obviously doesn't want us to know, yet. We can't do that to her, she trusts us," Harry replied, surprised at the anger he felt rising in his chest.

"Obviously not! Otherwise her boyfriend wouldn't be such a mystery, now, would he?" Ron snapped. "She spends all her time in the dungeons, never leaving… she'll jump down your throat if you even think of insulting Snape… I've seen the way she looks at him, Harry!"

"Ron, you're mental," Harry replied, shaking his head. "You don't honestly think—"

"Why else hasn't she told us, then?"

"Well," Harry started. "She says she wants to know it's serious…"

"Rubbish," Ron replied, leaning back on his bed. He folded his hands behind his head, staring at the canopy once more. "She doesn't want to tell us because she knows we'll tell Dumbledore."

"Ron – let's say you're right. Let's say, on the… really, really, _really_ off-chance she is…" Harry couldn't believe it to be true, so much so that he couldn't even bring himself to say the words. "Let's just say you're right. Even if you _are_ right, and Dumbledore _doesn't_ know – though I would think he did – we definitely can't tell him."

"What? What the bloody hell do you mean? We would have to! If a teacher—"

"Yeah, but think about how important Snape is to the Order. He's the only one that knows what Voldemort's up to," Harry said, trying to calm his voice. "If Dumbledore found out… he would have to… he'd have to get rid of Snape, and then – well, you know as well as I do there are plenty of Death Eaters out there that don't trust him at all—"

"Bloody git shouldn't be trusted by anyone if this is the kind of—"

"Ron! Stop it!" Harry shouted. "So what if he is Hermione's secret boyfriend! So what?" He'd had enough of Ron's jealousy, and he knew precisely that was the motivation behind his irrational accusations. "You've got to have enough respect for Hermione to let her make her own decision. She's way smarter than the both of us combined; you know that as well as I do! If she… if she likes him, then that's her decision!"

"Barkin' mad, Harry," Ron replied, turning towards him. "He's got to be – what – forty?"

Harry leaned back, his hands supporting him from behind. "Well, he went to school with my parents," he began. "So… yeah, around there."

Ron sat in his bed, folding his arms across his chest. "I thought Krum was bad." A smile broke out on his face, and he began to laugh.

Harry watched his expression change from anger to laughter in a matter of seconds, and, though he was uncertain of what to make of his friend's change of mood, he couldn't help but release a small chuckle as well. He still couldn't believe that Ron would even suggest that Hermione was dating Snape; quite honestly, his friend's jealousy of late had really been grating at Harry's nerves. It was obvious Hermione wanted to keep her love life private, and Harry knew well enough to allow her that.

But now that the suggestion had been made, he couldn't shake the thoughts from his mind. Hermione and… Snape?

* * *

><p>The next morning, as Hermione was waiting in the common room for her friends, her fingers toyed with the pretty pendant around her neck. The gemstone was dull; Severus was still in the dungeons. She was admittedly quite surprised when Harry was one of the first students down from the dormitories (especially for a Saturday!), and he came around the chair she was sitting in by the hearth.<p>

"Hermione, I want to talk to you," he had an air of concern about him, and Hermione leaned in towards him as he sat down across from her.

"Ron… he wanted to check on you last night, using the Map," Harry blurted out, his voice hushed. "Before you get mad – he thinks… he thinks…"

"What does he think, Harry?" Hermione asked, leaning in closer to him.

"I think he's convinced you're… you're dating Snape," as he spoke the name, his voice all but silenced. "I… I told him I didn't think so, but…"

Suddenly, Harry looked overwhelmingly guilty, and Hermione's eyes widened in horror as she realized why. He didn't even need to confess to her what he had done; she already knew. She wasn't angry with him, either, as she had begun feeling when he had told her Ron wanted to do the same. She, too, became overwhelmed with a feeling of guilt.

"Harry, you…"

"Hermione, I'm sorry," Harry said, his voice cracking. "I didn't want to violate you like that, but… I wanted to prove to myself Ron was wrong. I wanted to prove that you were just in your own dormitory, or off in the Ravenclaw common room."

"Harry, you didn't…"

More students began filling the common room, and the two friends peered around. "Harry, come to my dormitory, I don't want to have this conversation here."

As Hermione rose, Harry followed close behind, and they travelled up the stairwell to her private room. As she held open the door for him, Crookshanks mewled at him from her bed. He lowered himself in her chair by her desk, and Hermione sat down on her bed.

"Hermione, I'm sorry," Harry said again, his voice still a whisper though they no longer risked being overheard. "I didn't believe him, I didn't. I didn't do it for the same reasons he wanted to – I did it because I wanted to prove him wrong."

Hermione's stomach was twisting violently, and though she hadn't eaten anything since early yesterday evening she still felt as though she would vomit. She wasn't so much infuriated by Harry's betrayal as she was horrified – how did she never even consider the Marauder's Map?

"When I… when I looked, Hermione, it was nearly midnight," Harry began, his words rushed. Suddenly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of parchment. Touching his wand to the parchment, he whispered, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Hermione let her eyes fall to where he was pointing. Beyond the dungeons a ways, in an area that was unmapped and unmarked, she spotted Severus' dot. Her heart began fluttering in her chest, her palms beginning to sweat, as she stared at his mark, which was moving around in the part of the map she knew to be his private rooms.

"I… I don't know what this is," Harry began, his voice shaky, uncertain. "My guess is that because the Marauders didn't know where the rooms were for the teachers, they couldn't map them… but his mark is there, you see. And… yours was, too."

Hermione was watching the mark of her lover moving around in his rooms. Her eyes flickered over the dungeons: the potions classroom, the office, the Slytherin common room not too far away. Severus' private laboratory did not seem to be marked on the map…

"Harry, you do know that all of my work is done in Professor Snape's private laboratory, right?" she said quickly, her gaze still fixed on the map. "It isn't marked here. Perhaps the Marauders were unaware of its existence, as well."

Harry looked up at her incredulously. She continued: "As brilliantly mischievous your father was, I do believe this map's most limiting characteristic is that it is solely based on their knowledge of the castle. I wasn't even aware of Professor Snape's private lab."

"Hermione, that may be the case, but…" he began, his voice cautious, his words carefully chosen. "I just… I think Ron's right, Hermione."

Hermione lowered her eyes to her lap, chewing on her lip. Her mind was whirling with choices, though she knew not which would be the best course of action. Harry seemed to have his mind set; she had not flatly lied to him at all, and she did not want to start. He didn't seem angered by the knowledge, nor did he seem disgusted – merely concerned.

"I won't tell him, of course, if you don't want to," Harry said. "If he's right – well, I understand why you wouldn't want to tell him. Why you wouldn't tell anyone at all…"

Wasn't it just yesterday that Remus had come to her? Had they failed in their mission to keep it a secret? At least a handful of people knew, now – Dumbledore, Remus, the Malfoys, and now Harry – was it only a matter of time before the rest of the school discovered their secret?

"I won't tell Dumbledore, either," Harry said, his gaze fixed on the map. Hermione knew he was following Severus' mark as he left his private rooms and began navigating the corridors towards the Great Hall. "I know how important Snape is—"

"Professor Dumbledore already knows," Hermione whispered. "He's known for awhile."

"How long, Hermione?" Harry asked, his eyes never leaving the mark of his most loathed professor. "How long has this been going on?"

Hermione closed her eyes and breathed a heavy sigh. She was hesitant to speak for fear of vomiting. "October."

"Did it just… happen?"

"Well—yes, I think so," Hermione replied softly. "I just… we were spending so much time together. He's… not as he seems."

"I'd have guessed so," Harry said, a small laugh escaping him, though he never pulled his eyes from the map. "I had… I had noticed how quickly you'd defend him, I figured you knew more about him than we did, just because you were spending so much time with him, but… I'd never have guessed this…" He paused, watching Severus' mark enter the Great Hall, passing through where he knew the rows of tables were, and climbing up to the High Table. Then, his dot ceased movement, having taken his seat beside Dumbledore for breakfast. "Who else knows?"

"Besides Dumbledore?" Hermione asked. "Lupin… he figured it out yesterday. And Malfoy."

"The Malfoys know?" Harry asked, looking at her, concern evident in his emerald eyes. "How is it they know, and so few others do?"

"That's what we've been wondering," Hermione said, her tone serious. "We haven't figured it out yet."

Harry's brow furrowed as he allowed his eyes to drift back to the map. "And Dumbledore… he's okay with it?" He asked, his eyes flickering back and forth between the Headmaster's and the Potions Master's marks on the map.

"He didn't approve, initially, but he knew… he knew there was nothing to be done about it," Hermione replied, looking up at Harry. He still didn't meet her gaze. "His only concern was that if the news did get out, it would be the Ministry that would come after Severus – the Ministry and the parents. And then he would have to take action."

"It's still weird to hear you call him… 'Severus,'" Harry said, a smile crossing his face. "Do your parents know?"

Hermione shook her head, slowly. "No… no, they don't know. I… I was going to tell them when I told you."

"When we graduated, I'd guess," Harry replied quietly, and she nodded in response. Staring at the map, they were quiet for awhile. Hermione didn't know what to say.

"Are you happy, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded emphatically, fingering the pendant around her neck. Harry noticed her movement and looked to her necklace. Suddenly, he moved from the chair to her bed, sitting close beside her.

"Did he give you that?" Harry asked. "A vial…"

"Yes, and the gem," Hermione lifted the pendant off her chest. "It glows – when we're together."

Harry's eyes flickered to her ring. "And… that…"

"This ring was his mother's; it glows, too, when we're together," Hermione said, smiling. "I make it a point not to be too close to him when we're not alone."

Harry nodded in understanding, laughing softly. "Yeah, I can imagine." As he stared at the ring for a moment, he recognized the significance of its placement. "Is it… is it on your left hand because…"

"Yes," Hermione answered softly. She couldn't help but smile wide.

"Already?" Harry asked.

"I want to spend my life with him, Harry," Hermione replied softly. "I love him. More than I ever thought I could love anyone." As she looked at him, she recognized his concern. "Don't you think for a minute I took it lightly, Harry. I took a good deal of time considering it, and… there have been things I learned about him that… I just knew it was right. He loves me dearly, Harry. He does."

"I just don't know what to make of it, Hermione," Harry said, lowering his eyes to the map once more. The Great Hall was nearly filled with students for breakfast, and yet neither Harry nor Hermione felt at all hungry. "It's…"

"Peculiar," Hermione replied. "Yes, I know. Severus and I feel that way too, but… we are in love, Harry."

"I just don't picture Snape loving anyone," Harry said, a hint of amusement in his otherwise serious tone. "He just… he doesn't seem like the type, you know?"

Hermione smiled, looking at her friend. _Oh, Harry._ She thought, affectionately. _If only you knew._

Silence fell between them, and as Harry's eyes lingered on the map, he couldn't help but stare at the dot that represented Snape. He couldn't picture the man being anything short of cold, but Hermione seemed to feel otherwise; how else could she love him? But even so, he didn't know how to feel about it. Part of him was happy for her, but another part… another part just found the concept of a teacher and a student – especially his best friend – disgusting and wrong.

"You said Lupin knows," Harry said softly. "What does he think?"

"He was quite accepting of it, actually," Hermione replied, fondly. "He… he understood in a way I don't think anyone else could."

"Yeah, I suppose he would," Harry replied, chewing at his nail. "He's a werewolf, Snape's a spy… both have an element of danger about them, don't they?"

"Yeah, they do," Hermione smiled. "When I was talking to Remus, he had said he believed he and Severus had a great deal in common, more than he – Severus, that is – would like to admit."

Both of their gazes lingered on the map. While the majority of the markers representing the inhabitants of the castle were gathered in the Great Hall, a few were scattered throughout the corridor. Hermione spotted the dots that represented Lupin and Tonks, tucked away in an unmarked area of the map.

"Hermione, I _am_ happy for you, I hope you know that," Harry said suddenly, looking at her. He touched her hand, and in a swift movement, brought her into his arms. Hermione wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly to her. She kissed his cheek. "I'm very happy that you're happy, 'Mione. I don't know how I feel about it being… Snape… but…"

"Promise me you won't say anything to Ron," Hermione said, her voice rushed. "He… he's not like you, Harry. He won't understand."

As Harry pressed his wand against the map, he whispered, "Mischief managed." The ink faded, and after a moment of simply staring at the parchment, he pushed it into Hermione's hands.

"I don't want Ron to find out, either. Not yet," Harry said. "I want you to hold onto this." With a sly smile, he added: "Promise not to turn it in and I promise I won't tell Ron."

"Harry!" Hermione gasped, shoving him playfully. "I'll keep it safe." She stared at the blank parchment, and after a moment, she said, "Thank you, Harry."

"I don't suppose I can expect to be invited on a double date with you two?" he asked jokingly, smiling at her. His green eyes twinkled in the light of the room. "I suppose not for awhile, not until it's safely out in the open."

"Unfortunately," Hermione said. "Ginny can't know either, Harry. No one can."

"I know," he said, his eyes falling from her face to the blank map in her hands. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, drawing her into another brotherly embrace. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"We should probably go to the Great Hall, otherwise Ron'll start thinking I'm your secret boyfriend." His voice was harmlessly scathing, and Hermione laughed.

"Yeah, we can't have that now," Hermione sighed.

As they entered the Great Hall, Hermione spotted Ron and Ginny sitting beside each other, talking with Neville and Dean Thomas across from them. As they walked down the long aisle between the tables, both Hermione and Harry were looking up at the High Table at Severus. Hermione could tell he already acknowledged something was amiss between them, but what exactly, he had no clue. As his dark gaze passed between Hermione and Harry, the students looked away.

There was a seat beside Ginny that Harry took, and beside Neville, opposite of Ron, that Hermione lowered herself into. "Good morning, Ron," she offered. He smiled and nodded at her, his mouth full of food. She breathed a sigh of relief that, even though he had his suspicions, he did not allow them to bother him too severely. She exchanged a glance with Harry before tucking into her meal.


	30. Chapter 30

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
><strong>

**Chapter 30**

That Saturday would be long, indeed. After breakfast, Hermione desired to talk with Severus about Harry's discovery, but she would not get an opportunity to. Ron and Harry had been planning the entire week to visit with Hagrid that morning, and with little reason to decline, Hermione chose to accompany them as well.

It was a beautiful morning. It was only early March, but the snow was melting all around them and the green earth was peeking out through the melted patches of snow. The ground was sloshy, for sure, but the sun was shining and it was growing warmer with every passing day. With just a jumper, Hermione was able to exit the castle.

Ron had been playing it unusually cool, and hadn't even so much as mentioned his suspicion to Hermione. As they walked, he talked about his work with Huxley, the fact he had _finally_ mastered the counter-curse he had been trying to create, and some of the new Quidditch plays he and Harry had devised. Hermione and Harry exchanged a look behind his back, both a bit puzzled by his sudden loquaciousness, but said nothing, and simply engaged him in conversation.

When they reached Hagrid's hut, the beaming half-giant opened the door with a great deal of excitement.

"'Ermione!" he bellowed, drawing her into a hug. "It's been ages since I've seen yeh! 'Ow've yeh been?"

Hermione lost her breath as he embraced her, the half-giant forgetting his own strength, it seemed. As he released her, she drew in a sharp gasp of air, and laughed. "I've been wonderful, Hagrid! And you?"

"Oh, yeh know," Hagrid replied, holding the door open for them. "Come in, come in! Just brewed a spot o' tea. 'Ermione – tell me about workin' with Professor Snape. Ron an' Harry 'ere tell me yeh've been spendin' most o' yer time down there."

"Oh, well," Hermione began, turning her face down to her lap as her cheeks pinked. "It's going really well, I've learned quite a bit under his tutelage."

"I bet!" Hagrid said, pouring tea into some goblets for the three. "Bes' potions professor 'Ogwarts 'as ever 'ad. An' I bet yer'll be even better, 'Ermione!"

"Oh, thank you, Hagrid," Hermione said, hesitantly sipping from the cup he handed her. "He is quite pleased with my work, so much so that he's allowed me to assist in some of his own personal research!"

"Well, I'll be!" Hagrid clapped his hands in excitement for her. "That's jus' wonderful, Hermione."

Ron had released a cynical chuckle, and as both Hermione and Harry turned to face him, he shrugged his shoulders just slightly. "What? I can't imagine him saying much of anything nice to anyone at all."

"I think the important point, Ron," Harry said, carefully, "is that Snape has asked for her help in his own research. That's a pretty big deal."

"Exactly!" Hagrid added. "I've only known of a few projects Professor Snape has done on 'is own, usually any work 'e does is a' the request o' Professor Dumbledore."

Hermione smiled, appreciative of her friends' support. Even Ron began to act more friendly towards her as their visit carried on. Their conversation trailed from Hermione's apprenticeship to the students who were working with Hagrid, and how much he truly enjoyed the work with his own apprentices.

After an hour or so, Hermione decided she wanted to return to the castle. Bidding farewell to her friends, she headed back up the path to the main entrance, with her main objective heading straight down to the dungeons where she would find Severus. She was not looking forward to the conversation that was about to ensue, and she was certain it would lead her to Dumbledore's office – but Severus needed to know.

As she closed the door to his office, Severus stood from his desk. "Hermione," he said, coming towards her and kissing her gently.

"Severus, we need to talk," she said seriously after breaking away from his gesture. "Harry knows."

Leaning up against his desk, Severus simply considered her for a moment. He did not seem angry, as she thought he would, but instead he was calm, simply studying her.

"I do not suspect you outright told him," he said finally, rounding his desk to sit in his chair.

Hermione shook her head. "Of course not." Leaning onto his desk, she supported her weight on her arms. "He… Harry wasn't mad, either. He was happy for me, that I was happy. Of course, he's very confused about the entire thing, but he said he won't tell a soul. He knows why he can't."

"This is all very touching," Severus said, his voice crass. "But you still have not told me how he knows."

Hermione wondered for a moment if Severus knew about the map, but she suspected he did not. "Ron," she began. "He suspects it. Harry came to me, he told me that Ron… Ron wanted to spy on me. Harry said that he didn't agree, but with all that Ron had been telling him – apparently I look at you in a special way."

Severus couldn't help but smile, as he knew precisely of what she spoke. The way her eyes glittered only for him – it _would_ only be obvious to someone who she had cherished, wouldn't it? As his thoughts broke from the pleasantries of her adoration, the rest of her statement began to sink in.

"Weasley wanted to _spy_ on you?"

"Yes. As Harry said it, he had been growing increasingly jealous over these past several weeks. With how much time I've been spending in the dungeons, and the fact I defend you rather quickly if an unkind word is spoken—"

"It would have been wise to hold your tongue," Severus interrupted, drumming his fingers against his desk.

"Severus, you have only known me for seven years," Hermione replied, shortly. "Especially given what I've learned of you – and _especially_ considering I am to marry you – how do you expect me to stay silent when my future husband is being unduly criticized?"

The corner of Severus' mouth curled in a smirk. Though he was not one to speak to when it came to having to endure harsh criticisms and hateful remarks of those he cared about, he understood her sentiment quite well.

As they stared at each other from across the desk, Hermione shifted her weight in her chair. "But… as I've said, Harry won't say a word to anyone, least of all Ron. He knows how important you are to the Order, and to… me."

Severus reached across the table, placing his hand against her cheek. He stroked her soft skin affectionately with his calloused thumb. They sat in silence for a long time, Severus simply considering the information. With the knowledge now upon two more people, he knew he must go to Dumbledore.

He rose from his desk, and Hermione rose with him. "I must go speak with Dumbledore, and you, my dear, are more than welcome to join me, as you have details that I do not."

Hermione nodded. She moved through his office towards the classroom door, while Severus took another route. It would not do to be seen walking together through the hallway, though once they reached the gargoyle it would not be so imperative they not be seen together. With how lovely a day as it was, Hermione highly doubted there would be many students in the castle, anyway.

As she hurried through the corridors, she only passed a handful of students – mostly younger Slytherins and Hufflepuffs, she noted – and was relieved that, for the most part, her path was not hampered. The closer she happened upon the Headmaster's office, the quicker she moved, until she was nearly jogging.

Why she felt it necessary to reach the office so quickly, she did not know. Her heart was racing in her chest, her legs itching to carry her faster. She did not wish to break out into a full run though, and as she realized she was indeed jogging through the hallways, she forced herself to slow.

She reached the statue just moments before Severus, and without speaking a word to her, he muttered the password and climbed the staircase. Hermione followed closely behind, still catching her breath.

"Did you run, Miss Granger?" Severus crooned, looking over his shoulder at her. "Tut – students should not run in the halls. I should deduct points from you." The corner of his mouth tugged into a playful smirk.

As they reached the doorway, Severus knocked once before opening the door. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, and as his guests entered his office, he smiled kindly.

"Ah! Professor Snape, Miss Granger – take a seat!" With a wave of his hand, a second chair appeared out of thin air across the desk.

Hermione and Severus both lowered themselves into the chairs, and Hermione folded her arms across her chest. She hadn't any idea why she was so apprehensive about talking with Dumbledore, but she was.

"I thought it pertinent to inform you, Headmaster, that both Remus Lupin and Harry Potter are aware of our relationship," Severus began, matter-of-factly and quite to the point.

Dumbledore nodded slowly, steepling his fingers together. "Ah, yes, indeed. I suspected as much, though Remus did not leave much to wonder about." As Severus and Hermione both cast a curious glance at the elder wizard, he smiled. "He came to me yesterday evening, only to inform me that the secret was safe. But Harry – no, I have not spoken yet to Harry."

"Well, the Weasley boy was the one who suspected it," Severus growled, casting an irritated look at Hermione. She knew he was not irritated with her so much as the fact her friends were meddling in affairs that had nothing to do with them.

"Harry dissuaded him from it, though," Hermione added quickly. "He also promised that he would not tell a soul."

"I have no doubt they both understand just how vital you are to the operation, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly. "And you're certain Mr. Weasley is none the wiser?"

"He is suspicious, Professor," Hermione replied softly.

"You two have been careless," he replied.

"It is not so much that we have been careless as those boys are meddlesome and brash," Severus said softly. "If that Potter boy would mind his own—"

"You should appreciate that they are concerned for this young woman," Dumbledore interrupted, motioning to Hermione. "She has been awfully secretive this year."

"Even so—"

"Now, Severus," Dumbledore interjected. "They care for her, much the same as you. It is only normal that they worry for her."

Hermione nodded slowly, though Severus looked thoroughly irritated. Dumbledore continued: "I will talk with Mr. Potter later this afternoon. You two need to be much more cautious, I cannot protect you if this becomes public knowledge!"

"Yes, Headmaster," Severus replied, his voice a low growl. "I assure you, we did not wish this to happen."

Dumbledore said nothing, instead simply studying the young woman besides the Potions Master. Hermione was watching Severus' face, his frustration evident as he sat next to her, his entire body tense with aggravation. As she turned towards Dumbledore, she was surprised to be under his gaze, and she began to fidget.

"Miss Granger," he began. "I must admit, I had no idea you were an Occlumens."

Both Hermione and Severus bristled at his statement, straightening up in their chairs. Hermione's amber eyes were wide as she stared in shock at the ancient wizard across from her.

"Severus, it seems you have had much more success with her than you did Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said. Though he was smiling, his tone seemed much more serious.

"It is amazing what can happen when one is capable _and_ determined, Headmaster," Severus replied calmly.

"I must admit, I am quite curious," Dumbledore began, an inquisitive edge to his voice, though his tone remained quite stern. "For what purpose did you instruct Miss Granger in Occlumency?"

Hermione turned her eyes on Severus, her heart racing in her chest. With as much anxiety as she had been experiencing this term, she thought it a wonder she had not suffered cardiac arrest yet. Severus did not seem fazed, though, and as he stared evenly at the elder wizard, his voice was calm as he spoke.

"As you have cautioned, Headmaster. I must take great care in protecting her from the dangers that one may face when associated with me," Severus said slowly. "It was simply precautionary."

Albus eyed him curiously over his half-moon spectacles, lacing his fingers together as he leaned forward on his desk. Severus held his gaze, never faltering under the careful eye of the powerful wizard. After a long, torturously silent moment, Dumbledore spoke.

"That is quite a clever idea, Severus," he replied, though his tone did not seem overly convinced. "Miss Granger, you have done quite well, I must admit. I suspected, of course, but this is my first confirmation. Very well done, indeed, Miss Granger. You are quite the clever witch."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said quietly, smiling.

"Now, if you two don't mind, I would appreciate your excusal. I have much to do today! Much to do, indeed."

Severus rose from his chair, and after a moment, Hermione did the same. Nodding farewell to Dumbledore, the Potions Master turned on his heel and began to descend the staircase.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said softly as she turned to leave. "If there is anything at all you wish to tell me, I will always be available to listen."

Hermione paused before leaving, considering his statement carefully. "Y-Yes, sir." Turning, she followed the path Severus had led, and disappeared from the office.

As she emerged from behind the gargoyle, she felt a hand grip her wrist and suddenly, a warmth washed over her from head to toe. Turning towards Severus, he smiled slyly at her, and holding onto her hand, he pulled her in the direction of the grounds.

His voice was hushed as he spoke to her, so quiet even she could barely hear. There were students milling about them, walking past them as though they weren't even there. Severus was leading her to the hillside where they sat on Valentine's.

They whispered quietly as they walked, silencing themselves when they came close to other students. As they reached their destination, Severus lowered himself to an exposed root, and Hermione sat beside him after charming the ground to keep her pants from getting wet.

"Harry and I talked for a long time this morning," Hermione began, looking out over the lake. "He really surprised me. He wasn't mad at all. He understood."

Severus did not respond, but instead followed her gaze out over the lake. They sat in silence for awhile, simply watching the busy activity of the students on the grounds, wandering this way and that.

"I don't feel like I thought I would," she added. "I thought, when someone found out, I'd be more concerned. But… I think, out of all of the possibilities, we were quite fortunate."

"Indeed," Severus said. "Though, were I given the option, it would have become the knowledge of no one."

"Oh, I agree, Severus, completely," Hermione replied quickly. "But, given—"

"Yes, Hermione," he replied.

Hermione added quickly, "I don't _like_ that we weren't able to tell them ourselves, on our terms. But… then… I have been rather careless."

As his eyes flickered to the glowing pendant around her neck, he nodded. "As have I."

Hermione leaned into him, and he laced his arm across her shoulders, kissing her face. "Only a few more months now, Severus," she said. "And then we can be honest. With everyone."

* * *

><p>The night of the full moon rapidly approached and was upon Hermione before she realized it. As she tremulously followed Severus to the dungeons, her hands shaking violently in her apprehension, he had offered few reassuring words to her in attempts to calm her nerves. He recognized, however, a hopeless feat, and soon left her to her own anxiety, though remained by her side throughout it all.<p>

Severus held the door open for Hermione, his hand resting on the small of her back as she entered the classroom. As she raised her eyes to greet Lupin, she was not prepared for his company: beside him stood Dumbledore, and sitting at a desk, was Harry.

Severus followed her in and closed the door behind them. Even in a room full of men who were aware of their relationship, Severus was not one to openly display his affection, and so he stood his distance from his lover.

"We wanted to wish you luck, Hermione," Harry said, uncomfortably at first, his gaze passing between the Potions Master and his friend.

"And of course, well wishes to Remus, as well," Dumbledore offered, kindly.

Lupin bowed in recognition, smiling playfully at Hermione. "I have no doubt that she has performed admirably." The werewolf looked quite terrible, truly: his hair seemed greyer now than it had been yesterday, and the wrinkles and wounds of his face were deeper somehow. His pale skin was sickly looking, as though he was ill.

As they spoke, Hermione was shifting uncomfortably, suddenly incredibly conscious of his wandering eye. Looking at Harry, she said nothing; his eyes kept flickering between herself and Severus, and she dreaded the thoughts that were passing through his mind in that moment.

She hurried to the laboratory, pouring the final drops of the Wolfsbane Potion into a goblet and returning to Lupin. He drank from it, poorly disguising his revulsion at the taste. She smiled sympathetically, quickly returning the goblet to the laboratory, and stood for a moment in the quiet room, alone. Her nervousness was quickly becoming overwhelming, and breathing deeply, she tried to ward off the impending panic attack.

After she failed to return to the classroom, Severus followed her into the lab. As she stood there, gasping for air, trying to will away her nerves, he drew her into his arms, holding her close to him and stroking her hair.

"Hermione, you have nothing to worry about," he crooned in her ear, kissing the delicate skin.

"But – if I – brewed this – wrong—" her words were broken by gasps of air.

"Which I am confident you have not, dear girl," Severus replied, stroking her hair. "Come, calm down."

"And then – Harry – here—"

"Hermione," Severus sighed. "I do not want to have to administer a calming draught to you."

His sly sense of humor did indeed have the affect he desired, and she laughed quietly. Her breathing finally slowed, though her heart never did; she did, however, manage to follow him into the classroom, where Dumbledore and Lupin were talking quietly.

"Ah, Remus, let me show you where I think you will be best suited to endure your transformation," Dumbledore said suddenly, his twinkling gaze moving between Severus, Hermione, and Harry.

"And let me find my wife, so she can accompany me," Remus replied. The pair of them left rather quickly, but before Dumbledore closed the door behind him, he said quietly to Hermione:

"You have nothing to fear, dear girl."

Hermione nodded hesitantly, smiling awkwardly as the door quietly closed. And suddenly, she was alone in the room with her lover and best friend. As she looked between them, she felt the atmosphere in the air grow significantly heavier. They simply held each other's gaze, while Hermione felt her panic start to rise once more.

Suddenly, Harry stood, and as he approached Severus, Hermione's stomach dropped. Her breath caught in her throat as her friend closed in on her lover, and it seemed even Severus seemed uncertain of the boy's intentions.

Hermione released an audible sigh of relief when Harry reached his hand out to his professor. Slowly, deliberately, Severus raised his hand to Harry's, grasping it firmly. They stood there for a moment, simply shaking the other's hand, holding each other's gaze, before anyone spoke.

"This is really weird for me," Harry said. "I feel like I need to give you the whole, 'If you hurt her' speech, but…" Harry released Snape's hand.

"I can assure you, Mr. Potter, that is unnecessary," Severus replied coldly, his hand falling to his side. He hated to engage in such trivial conversation with the boy, but for Hermione's sake – he'd tolerate it.

Harry returned to the desk he was sitting at, though instead of lowering himself into the chair, he perched himself on the edge of the table. He simply considered the professor for awhile, uncertain of how to process the situation or feel about the man. He had hated him for so long, distrusted him and doubted his loyalties, wondered if he was even truly human – a man that cold, you have to wonder – and here his best friend was, explaining to him that she loved him, and he her, and they were going to marry. She was quite right in what she said to Ron not so many weeks ago:

"_Things _change_, Ronald. People change."_

Severus stood still, his dark gaze fixed on the boy he had been tasked with protecting all these years. The woman he loved stood beside him, as though symbolically aligning herself with him, and yet it still pained him to stare into those emerald eyes. He suddenly realized that Harry Potter was indeed more like his mother than he had ever credited him for…

Hermione felt as though the air in the room would crush her if she remained there any longer. Two of the men she cared for most in the world were simply staring each other down, and Hermione couldn't handle it. It was as though they were conversing through their gazes alone. The silence was suffocating.

"I have to ask, though," Harry said, finally tearing his gaze away from the Potions Master, lowering his eyes to his hands. "How the bloody hell did this come about?"

Severus looked to Hermione. She was staring at Harry, standing awkwardly beside him, her eyes glossy, her hands trembling. She did not seem to have any intention on answering, and so Severus stepped forward.

"Well, certainly, this is not a foreign concept to you, Mr. Potter. When you spend as much time with someone as we have—"

Harry shook his head, his messy black hair tousling in the movement. "I don't believe that. She said – she said since October." Harry looked up, suddenly. "You mean to tell me that within a month of working together, you two realized you were barking mad for each other?"

"Well, I may have… it may have been November, Harry," Hermione interjected. "I—I don't know the exact date, you know. Just… in general."

Harry nodded simply, though his expression betrayed him. Hermione could easily tell he did not truly believe her, and he remained suspicious. But nonetheless, he seemed to, at least, feign satisfaction.

Turning to Severus, he said, "Ron isn't going to like this. Not at all."

Hermione nodded sadly, taking a step closer to Severus. The motion was not overlooked by her friend, and he couldn't help but smile.

"But I'd be a fool if I couldn't tell how much she loves you. And I'd reckon he'll come to accept that, too. Some day."

Severus wanted to retort, the scathing, waspish reply on the tip of his tongue, but he restrained himself, if only for Hermione's sake. He could not tolerate any more of this idle chit-chat, the feeling of condemnation by a teenage boy all too familiar and all too loathsome – and yet, he knew, really, the boy was not so much castigating them as he was simply… curious. But still, his patience had waned, and he welcomed an interruption.

Dumbledore, as reliable as he was, poked his head in the room. "Ah, there you are, Miss Granger! And come, Professor! I do believe an apprentice should, most certainly, have her pedagogue by her side during such a stressful time!" Spotting Harry, Dumbledore smiled. "Ah, Mr. Potter – you would be wise to return to your common room!"

Dumbledore led Severus and Hermione down the corridor, in the opposite direction of her friend. Hermione was certainly appreciative that she had not eaten anything that evening, her stomach clenching violently for so many hours. As they approached the entryway to the Room of Requirement, her anxiety only increased, and as the door made itself visible to them – well, if she hadn't suffered a heart attack then, she highly doubted she _ever_ would.

The door opened to them, and inside, Lupin and Tonks were waiting. Lupin, if it were even possible, looked worse than he did only an hour prior, and Hermione frowned. Tonks slapped her on the back, pulling her into a playful hug.

"Don't you worry, Hermione," she whispered. "He always looks the worst in the hours right before."

Hermione nodded sadly, and turned to Lupin. He pulled her into a tight hug, and as though he could feel her heart beating like a hummingbird within her chest, he chuckled.

"Oh, you dear, foolish girl, you have nothing to worry about," he said to her, bent close to her ear. Her arms tightened around his waist. "I do not doubt for a moment you have perfected the potion."

"Remus, if… if this is wrong, I'm so sorry," Hermione said softly. "I know how painful it is…"

"Yes, it is, I won't lie to you about that. But once it's finished, Nymphadora—"

"REMUS!"

"—sorry, Tonks" – he looked to his wife, smiling harmlessly – "is quite capable of keeping me occupied."

Hermione couldn't help the flush that rushed to her cheeks, and she nodded. "Thank you for trusting me."

"It's an honor to contribute to the brilliance of a young mind," he replied, touching her cheek gently before turning from her. "Now – you should leave."

"Indeed, Miss Granger," Severus said softly.

Hermione stood, staring at Lupin for a moment, her eyes shiny with her apprehension. She couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of dread, even though she was confident she had done everything as instructed. She couldn't bear the thought of either Lupin or Tonks having to endure an excruciating evening because she was incapable.

Lupin tucked his hands into his pockets, smiling kindly at her. He understood her apprehension, she knew – he understood her all too well. She heard the heavy door creak open behind her. A hand resting on her shoulder brought her back to the present, and when she turned, her gaze met Severus'. She cast a final wave at Lupin and Tonks and followed Severus from the room.


	31. Chapter 31

Rating: M – inappropriate for readers under the age of 16; contains scenes of explicit sexuality and violence.

Disclaimer: Characters and settings ©J.K. Rowling

**Matters of the Heart**

K. Marie**  
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**Chapter 31**

Hermione refused to leave the seventh corridor hallway leading to the Room of Requirement. Though he felt she was behaving irrationally, Severus remained by her side until the early hours of the morning. He sat beside her when she was resting, and stood to watch her as she paced. Finally, some time long after midnight, she had nodded off, her head resting against Severus' shoulder (he, of course, was prepared at the first sign of company to shroud themselves in invisibility).

Severus, too, had drifted off to sleep, his face resting on his hand, Hermione's head against his shoulder. The only sound while they rested there was the occasional passing ghost, but for most of the night, the castle was silent. It was sometime short before dawn that Lupin and Tonks emerged, looking worse for wear.

The quiet creak of the door slowly brought Severus to consciousness. When Lupin cleared his throat, the Potions Master finally awoke, blinking away the sleep, and shrugging his shoulders under the weight of Hermione's head. The jerking motion of his shoulder woke his partner, and she rubbed at her tired eyes.

Looking up at Lupin, all thoughts of previous fatigue disappeared and suddenly, she stood. "Remus!"

Severus slowly rose as well, and as Tonks looked between them both, she displayed a knowing grin. He had intended on leaving Hermione well before dawn, to avoid such a circumstance with Lupin's wife, but having fallen asleep… He sneered at her, looking to Lupin instead.

"Well?" Severus pressed, folding his arms across his chest.

"Severus, I must say, you have a very talented apprentice," Lupin said kindly, turning to her. "She will make a wonderful Potions Mistress some day."

Hermione's expression slowly changed from concern, to curiosity, to absolute elation as Lupin was speaking, and she threw her arms around his neck. She felt as though she would burst with joy as she realized what he was saying.

"You did quite well, Hermione," Tonks added.

"Thank you – both – so much," Hermione said, hugging them both once more. "You have no idea what this means to me."

"Nor you for us," Lupin replied. "Now that I have two very talented alchemists on my side – perhaps you'll find the cure some day." He laughed, suddenly. "No pressure, of course!"

Hermione laughed, too. She could barely contain her joy at the thought of having successfully brewed such a difficult potion in her first attempt. She couldn't help but hope that it bode well for her research with Severus.

"I have to go," Hermione said quickly. "I need to record all of this!"

"Oh, of course!" Lupin replied, tucking his hands in his pockets. "Don't let us interfere with the rest of your project."

Hermione hesitated before hurrying to the dungeons, and gave them both one final hug. Severus offered them both a simple nod, bidding his farewell, and turned away from them, his robes billowing about him. Lupin and Tonks would remain in the castle for the remainder of the day, and no doubt they intended on spending that time with Harry.

As Hermione burst into the dungeons, she hurried across the classroom to the laboratory door. Cool to the touch, it opened as Severus entered the classroom, and Hermione hurried inside. She hurried to her table, inking her quill and carefully scratching her notes onto parchment. Beside her, the empty cauldron rested, emanating a rather foul smell.

As Severus entered the room, the cauldron disappeared. He lowered himself into the chair beside Hermione, watching her careful hand as she wrote. Despite how obviously exhausted she was – there were dark circles under her reddened, glossy eyes – she was quite involved in her writing.

"Hermione, I am very pleased with your performance," Severus said softly, watching her work. "Once you finished the potion, of course, I had no doubts. But when I assigned it, I was not certain you would perfect the process so quickly."

"I must admit, I am at a bit of an advantage, Severus," Hermione replied, looking up at him. "Ever since third year – when you had assigned the essay, actually – I had been researching werewolves, and the Wolfsbane Potion. To be quite honest, I do hope to one day produce the cure."

"A noble goal," Severus crooned, stroking her cheek. She blushed, lowering her face to her parchment once more and finishing her notes.

As she scrawled the final word, she set her quill in its well and looked up at Severus. "I am quite exhausted."

A small smile crept across his face as he looked at her. "Shall we?"

Sealing off his classroom, Severus led Hermione to his private rooms, where they succumbed to sleep.

* * *

><p>Later that afternoon, Hermione and Severus finally emerged from his private rooms. Hermione would have to invest quite a lot of time that day working on her class assignments, and Severus, of course, had assignments he needed to grade. Locked away in his office, he began to work, and Hermione took her homework to the library.<p>

She ran into Harry on her way, and smiling, he turned on his heel to walk with her.

"Where ya headed?"

"The—"

"Library, of course," he interjected playfully. "I wanted to congratulate you, Hermione. Ron, Lupin, and I went to Hogsmeade for lunch, and he told me all about how well you did. And you were worried!"

Hermione smiled. "I couldn't help it, Harry. You went to Hogsmeade?"

"Yeah, Dumbledore let us, given the 'special circumstance.' And Tonks stayed behind, so Ron was none the wiser… we went there with the whole idea of a 'guy's night' kind of thing," Harry replied. "He hasn't really said much, you know, since the other night."

"I hate that you have to lie to him now, too, Harry," Hermione replied sadly. "I would have been much happier if I was the only one having to deceive him."

"Yeah, I know," Harry replied. "_I_ hardly get it, really. I don't know what you see in him, but I can tell you care about him a lot – that's enough for me. But Ron… I don't know. I don't think he'd be as understanding."

"No, Harry, I think you're right," Hermione nodded slowly, sadly.

"You're going to have to tell him eventually, you know. And he'll find out it lasted all through school," Harry said, turning towards her as they neared the library. "He's going to be hurt."

Hermione lowered her head, sighing. "Yes, I know."

"But I guess it doesn't really matter, does it?" Harry said softly. "You're happy. And that's something Ron just couldn't do for you. He'll come around, he always does."

Smiling at him, Hermione nodded. "I hope you're right. I guess we'll see, won't we?"

Hermione turned into the library, leaving her friend to do as he was.

* * *

><p>That evening, when Hermione had finished her homework, she returned to Severus' classroom. At the end of the month, they would be able to work on the Drink of Despair, and come middle of April, she would be able to work on her Draught of Life. But that evening, Severus had promised to assign her final project – and in conjunction with the two draughts and a recreation of Wolfsbane Potion to test with Lupin the following month, Hermione would have all of her final projects.<p>

As she entered the classroom, she found Severus bent over a workstation towards the back of the classroom, working quietly. Closing the door gently behind her, she crossed the room, touching him softly on his shoulder.

"Severus," she said softly.

"Ah, yes, Hermione," he replied. He had an assortment of vials in his hands, carefully examining the contents of each before placing it on the rack before him. "Just a moment."

Hermione placed her things in the laboratory, quickly checking on her draughts before returning to his side. As his dark gaze was studying one of the vials, he spoke to her.

"Do you remember when Arthur Weasley was attacked by Nagini?"

"Of course, Severus," Hermione replied, her eyes flickering between his face and the vials in his hand.

"Your assignment is to create the antidote," he said, setting down a vial and turning towards her. "But this is going to be quite different from what you have done thus far." As he began twisting a vial in his fingers, the silvery solution within sloshing against the glass, he scrawled some notes down on a piece of parchment, and replaced the vial in its rack. "I am not going to provide for you the instructions."

Hermione stared at him, perplexed. "But how?"

"That is your problem to solve, Miss Granger," Severus crooned, allowing his eyes to drift to her face. "I suggest you visit my library, of course, and learn what you can about the species of snake whose venom you are attempting to counteract."

Hermione's eyes widened and she nodded. "Oh, of course!"

"My wards are inactive. I will be there in a moment."

Hermione quickly moved towards Severus' rooms. She couldn't believe the assignment he just issued her; it was something she had never even thought within her abilities. But obviously, Severus felt quite differently, or else he would not have assigned it to her. Crossing his rooms to his library, she began perusing the shelves for any text that appeared helpful.

In a few moments, Severus entered the library, standing near the doorway with his hands tucked in the pockets of his robes. As Hermione milled about his bookshelves, he watched her from afar, his lips curled in the smallest of smiles. Her enthusiasm about such a project was inspiring to the Potions Master; she was the first person in years to feel such excitement about alchemy, and it was very refreshing, indeed!

She began lifting volumes off the shelves, and before long her arms were filled with heavy books. As she spotted Severus in the room, her entire face lit up, and she hurried to him, setting the books on a table on her way.

"This is going to be so challenging, Severus!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Indeed," he replied. "But I believe you are very capable of such a task."

Kissing him, she turned away quickly and returned to his bookshelves, continuing her search of any that may prove useful. When she returned to him with a single book, he lifted some of her load off the table, and led her to his laboratory.

"My assistance to you in this task will be quite limited, Hermione," he began as she set out the books she took. "I will answer you what I can. In the meantime, I will be working on our Drink of Despair – and of course, when I happen upon a task I find suiting for your instruction, I will require you to assist me."

She had opened a book as he was speaking, and turning towards him, she couldn't contain her joy. Reaching out to him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, reaching up to kiss him deeply. He held her close to him, his strong hands grasping at her body, as his tongue explored her mouth hungrily.

As she broke away, her face was flushed, and Severus could easily read the lust in her eyes. He resisted the urge to make love to her, instead allowing her to begin working. Breathlessly, she kissed him again, before turning towards the table once more to begin her research.

Several hours passed as she scoured through the various textbooks, her hand busily scrawling down any information she thought may be relevant. By the time her eyelids were so heavy that she no longer could read the words on the page, she had accumulated four rolls of parchment worth of notes.

She left her workstation as it was and abandoned the laboratory. Severus was hunched over at his desk, his head resting against his folded arms, his shoulders rising slowly with his even breath. Even in her exhaustion, Hermione couldn't help but smile at the sight of her lover sleeping at his desk, several scrolls scattered in front of him, his quill safely perched in its well.

Coming around his desk, Hermione wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. Her breath played lightly against his ear as she whispered to him, "Severus, my love. Let's go to bed."

He released a low, heavy groan and Hermione pressed a kiss to his lips, her hand playing with his hair. Pulling her fingers through its length, she pressed another kiss to his lips, and whispered a little louder this time, "Severus." She rested her hand on his forearm, the gemstone on her finger glowing brightly.

As he came to consciousness, his face quickly twisted into a grimace and his hand quickly rose to the back of his neck. Groaning, his eyes slowly opened, and he tenderly lifted his head, his hand still massaging the cramping muscles of his neck and shoulders.

"What time is it?" he growled.

"It's nearly two," Hermione replied, looking at her watch. A yawn escaped her, and she rubbed her tired eyes.

"Have you been working this entire time?" Severus asked her, rising from his desk. With a flick of his wand, the classroom door locked and the laboratory door closed quietly.

"I've got four scrolls of notes," Hermione replied as she followed Severus to his office.

Before he entered the passage to his rooms, he turned to her. "And you will, of course, record everything you do, so I can follow your procedure."

Hermione nodded. "Of course."

Leaning down to her, he kissed her softly on the mouth before leading her by the hand to his rooms. Neither bothered to undress as they collapsed into Severus' bed, surrendering to sleep within minutes.

* * *

><p>The following morning, Hermione woke feeling more exhausted than she had when she retired. Dragging herself from Severus' bed, she hurried through his rooms, escaping through the private entranceway to the dungeons. It wasn't long before she was climbing the stairs to her own rooms, her body aching with fatigue, her eyelids heavy with sleep.<p>

Her shower was cooler than what was comfortable but even after she finished bathing, she still felt quite tired. Tying her hair back, she cast the concealment charm she had utilized so often this year on the bags under her eyes.

Hoisting her bag over her shoulder, Hermione dragged herself to the common room. She was finally starting to feel more awake, but only barely so, and as the common room began filling with students, she felt her own fatigue worsen with the company.

Finally, Harry and Ron emerged from the stairwell and spotted her by the hearth. They came to her nearly immediately, and her tiredness was not overlooked by the boys.

"Bloody hell, Hermione. You look awful!" Ron exclaimed, running a hand through his flaming red hair.

"Thanks, Ronald," Hermione replied crassly. "Professor Snape assigned my last project last night, and I was up until past midnight working on it."

"I don't suppose you came back to your rooms," Ron said. "He'd have given you a detention just knowing you were wandering the halls."

Hermione's heart started to race as Ron was speaking, but she breathed a sigh of relief (disguised, of course, as an exasperated sigh of disbelief) once he finished his sentence. "Really, Ronald. He was quite understanding of the situation. He knew this last assignment was going to require a lot of work, and he knows well enough that I like to finish what I've started!"

Harry, doing his best to help her continue keeping Ron in the dark, chuckled quietly. "Yeah, Ron – even _you_should know that!"

"Aye, mate," Ron replied, rolling his eyes. "How could I forget?"

Standing from her chair, Hermione followed the boys to the Great Hall. She was absolutely famished, and hoped that eating something would wake her up more. Looking up at the High Table, Severus looked little better than she did; his normally pale face seemed more pallid somehow, the shadows around his eyes exaggerated in contrast. He looked down at her for a moment before tearing his gaze away, and she lowered herself down to the table beside Ron.

Even though her friends were having an excited conversation about the first Quidditch match of the spring season, Hermione's mind was elsewhere. She couldn't tear her thoughts away from her research, her busy mind hurriedly forming connections between bits and pieces of information she discovered the night previous.

"'Oi, 'Mione," she heard Ron's voice, though it seemed distant in comparison to the volume of her thoughts. "Are you gonna make it to the Quidditch match next weekend?"

"Oh, well… I hope so. But I won't know until—"

Ron's emphatic groan interrupted her, and she frowned. "Look, Ron. I _will_ try, but I just don't know."

"Didn't you just hear her finish telling you about how late she was up working last night?" Harry added. "As long as you show up for Gryffindor versus Slytherin." He winked at her playfully, and she smiled.

"As I've said before – that game I wouldn't miss for anything!"

As the day progressed, Hermione began feeling more energetic, especially following lunch. Potions was quite miserable for everyone involved, as Severus was indeed very, very irritable, and even Hermione endured some very severe remarks by the class's end. Some very bitter students were grumbling to each other as they filed from the class.

As Hermione handed Severus her vial for his assignment, she let her fingers brush against his for just a second. She knew the subtle, affectionate gesture would not go unnoticed by the Potions Master, and as his eyes met hers, she recognized the loving glint in their darkness.

As Hermione approached the Great Hall, she spotted the tousled black hair of Harry and she hurried to catch up to him. Beside him, Ron was talking rather hushedly, but Hermione had no difficulty in hearing him.

"I looked for the map, Harry," he was saying. "I couldn't find it."

"What did you need it for?" Harry replied, his voice just as quiet. Hermione's heart started racing as she thought of the map tucked away in her trunk.

"I just – I just want to look. Tonight. It's Monday, she'll be there – please, Harry. Just let me look. Just once."

"Ron, just let it go already! She'll tell us when she's ready," Harry snapped.

"I don't get why she needs to be so secretive about it," Ron said, sounding irritable. "If it's not—"

Hermione swallowed deep and tried to shake her fury with Ron. To let him know she had overheard the entire conversation – especially knowing he wanted it to remain between he and Harry – would not benefit anyone, and so she acted as though she had just rounded a corner.

"Hey, you two!" she said, willing the trembling of her voice away.

"Hermione!" they exclaimed.

Ron's voice wavered in its strength as he spoke. "What are you doing?"

"Heading to lunch, of course," she replied, feigning her smile the best she could. "I'm starved!"

They lowered themselves to Gryffindor table, soon to be joined by Ginny. It took quite a lot of effort on Hermione's part not to allow the knowledge of Ron's suspicion to affect her mood any, but as the lunch period progressed, she began to feel her anxieties wane. Harry had begun talking with Ron about their apprenticeship, and so the boy seemed completely distracted from his previous thought.

It was fortunate, Hermione believed, that Harry had thought to let her hold onto the map. Had he not done so – well, it would be quite easy for Ron to snoop, wouldn't it? And though she had told him time and time again that no good would come of such a behavior, he never learned.

After her hunger was sated and the period was over, Hermione hurried off to her afternoon classes. Saying goodbye to her friends reminded her of her frustration with Ron, and while she refused to let it ruin her mood, she still couldn't help the way she felt about it.

If only he would trust her! She had never given him any reason not to in the past, and he really had no reason to suspect anything from her! So she had a boyfriend she didn't want him to know about – what business was it of his? He still seemed to think he had a right to know, and perhaps he did, but she was not ready to tell him, and he was not ready to hear the news.

Her afternoon classes passed by quickly and before she knew it, Hermione was tucked away in the Potions laboratory with the books she had borrowed from Severus. He had not been present as she entered his classroom, but he had left the wards inactive and so she knew he could not be far.

It wasn't long before Hermione was fully immersed in a book about serpents. She had gone through at least a dozen times searching for the right information – she had several guesses the species of snake Nagini was, but she simply did not know for certain. She remembered – very vaguely – what the snake looked like, basing her memory on a photograph shown to her by Sirius in her fifth year, and Harry's descriptive recollection of her.

When Severus cleared his throat from the doorway, Hermione jumped. She hadn't heard him enter the classroom, and had no idea he had ever returned. Turning to face him, she smiled.

"How is your research progressing?" he asked her, his eyes moving from her face to the scrolls of notes scattered over her work station.

Following his gaze, she chuckled softly. "As you can see, I've covered a lot of information so far. There's just one thing I'm uncertain of…"

"And that is?" he asked, his hand smoothing over her hair.

"The species of snake, of course," Hermione replied, somewhat crassly. "I just… I don't remember. I've never actually _seen_ her, I've only seen a picture – once, and what Harry's said."

"In that case," Severus said, his hands resting at her waist. "I'll refer you to a book you should already be _quite _familiar with." His eyes scanned the desk before him, and finding the book he was looking for, he set his hand on its cover and pulled it towards him. "Chapter twenty-two."

Hermione stared at the beasts encyclopedia he brought towards her for a moment, certain she had already looked through it. Opening as instructed, she found the chapter he suggested.

"You should have more confidence, Miss Granger," he crooned, affectionately cupping her chin in his hand. "You are a bright witch, indeed." He lowered his hand to one of her scrolls, and unrolling it, he showed to her the notes she had already taken.

"I just – I don't want to disappoint you, Severus," Hermione whispered, her cheeks pinking under his gaze.

"Hermione," he said softly, leaning down to her. "You have no idea." Pressing a kiss to her mouth, he stroked her cheek with his hand. She leaned into his touch, sighing softly and smiling at him.

Finally his hand fell from her face and he allowed her to work once more. Turning from her, he approached the cauldron at the back of the room with the Drink of Despair. She watched him for a moment as he collected his written research and began working on the draught.


End file.
